She's a Death Eater, but that's okay
by quidditchwithdragons
Summary: Voldemort hit Harry Potter with the killing curse, but what if he didn't plan on dying? Hermione Granger's been forced to join the Death Eaters so Ron could be spared a horrible destiny. Draco Malfoy's been charged with helping her and as the 7th year gets closer and Granger gets better at being a Death Eater, his life is about to be turned upside down. AU, EWE, OOC, DARK!HERMIONE
1. Clueless

**DISCLAIMER: All of the characters in the Harry Potter series belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Thank you all so much for being here and taking time to read my work!**

 **Just a quick note, in this story Hermione does not know Snape is a double agent. Neither did Harry nor Ron.  
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 **Let me know what your thoughts are, I always appreciate you taking time to leave me a comment.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Catelyn xx**

 **[** ** **RATED M FOR LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE AND SEXUAL CONTENT]****

 ** **[THIS STORY CAN ALSO BE READ ON WATTPAD UNDER THE SAME USERNAME, quidditchwithdragons]****

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Six years at Hogwarts and not even once she had hated Draco Malfoy as much as she did that day. The day when the Dark Lord – she wasn't even allowed to think his name anymore – asked him who she was. And, obviously, if a Malfoy has to save their own life, they will do it with a certain style: she had never received so many compliments from him – she'd never received _any_ compliments from him. The most clever witch of her age, one of the best students Hogwarts had ever had, she knew every one of Harry Potter's secrets, etcetera.

Beyond every expectation – hers or his – the Dark Lord had been surprised by Hermione's magical gifts and, once verified that was the truth, he decided that she would be his one and only Mudblood Death Eater, not without all the scorn of his other followers.

Harry and Ron had been killed the very day Greyback took them to the Manor, and, consequently, the Dark Lord considered the war over. How she'd become a Death Eater in the first place, you may ask. The Dark Lord gave her a choice. A life for a life. Either she took the Mark willingly, binding herself to him for the rest of her life, or Ron would become Bellatrix's new toy and she would die. After that ultimatum, there was no doubt in her mind. She would not allow Bellatrix to torture her friend into insanity, even if that meant giving up her own life in the process.

An hour later, she was Marked and in her new bedroom at Malfoy Manor. From that day on, the Dark Lord had started giving her more and more important charges and she learned several times what the consequences were for getting him angry, and he could find her anywhere, so there wasn't even a point in running or disobeying.

He didn't need to keep Hogwarts under control, so he allowed the old teachers, the ones who were still alive, to come back to school, probably deciding that Snape's directorship was enough and didn't need the Carrows anymore. There were no Houses anymore, the Slytherin colours and emblem would be applied to the whole school.

It was a rainy day when the Dark Lord gave the news to his Death Eaters. Though over-age, Draco and Hermione had to finish their magical instruction. That was the moment Hermione decided she had to get into the Lord's graces. The new law was clear: every _proper_ wizard had to complete their instruction at Hogwarts, willing or not, and that meant Luna, Ginny, Neville, her friends would be there.

Hermione had no idea what was coming for her.

§§§

Still hugging her pillow, not even fully awake, Hermione was trying to ignore the knocking.

"What?" she mumbled.

"Miss Granger?" a House-elf opened the door and the witch felt sorry for being unwittingly rude to her.

"Missy, can I help you?"

"Miss Granger, Dark Lord wants speak to you."

The girl sighed and pulled the pillow over her head, thanking the elf. Not even ten minutes later, she left the room, dressed and ready for whatever he had in store for her that day.

As expected, the Death Eaters were already there, sat at the majestic table of the Drawing Room, the seat at the Dark Lord's left empty. She had earned it a few days before, and, although she had aimed for the seat at his right, Bellatrix seemed to have applied a Permanent Sticking Charm on the chair, so she had Snape shift over a seat. She had a feeling she would never be on his good side after that affront – as he had called it.

"You're here because of the new developments on the Hogwarts front," he announced, then turned to her. "As I'm sure you know, Miss Granger, your former friends will be there, but I forbid you to any type contact with them. They may not wish you well after they know about your new allegiances, and I don't want that to happen. If you want me to kill them, all you have to do is ask."

It had been insane to see the change in the Dark Lord's manners towards her, after so many rebels she had located – more or less willingly – and, if she hadn't known better, she would have thought he was being thoughtful.

She had seen Bellatrix's punishment for failing a mission, though, and there was no Death Eater more fond of him than her. Hermione knew perfectly well that was only his way of making sure his source of information – information not even Snape could have – wouldn't go wasted.

Too quickly, a loud, "No!" left her lips and she had to rush herself to explain. "I mean, I don't want them to be killed, too much pure blood would be spilled, and I don't want that for you, my Lord. I will stay as far away from them as possible."

"Good. I suppose the young Mr Malfoy will have no problem helping you with anything you may need and, as any Slytherin, you will have a seat of honour into the Headmaster's good graces."

Hermione turned towards Snape and, ignoring Malfoy's disgusted glance, she focused on her professor, who only nodded, noticeably trying not to disobey.

"I understand your reluctance, Severus, but Dumbledore was at least right about one thing: The Sorting happens way too early." Snape imperceptibly flinched at that. "It doesn't matter anymore, of course, but I doubt the Sorting Hat would still scream _Gryffindor!_ now."

Of course, the Hat would sort her into Gryffindor once again, Hermione thought. Despite everything that was happening, she was still trying to protect her friends, just like she only was a Death Eater because she didn't want to let Ron become Bellatrix's hobby.

§§§

After receiving their Hogwarts letters, with the same list of books and – surprise, surprise – the Head Girl and Boy badges, Hermione and Draco headed to Diagon Alley to buy everything they needed. She quickly abandoned every hope of going unnoticed because of Malfoy's way to noticeable hair and, most of all, due to Nagini, their escort for the day, as the Dark Lord had demanded.

Finally at Flourish & Blott's, Hermione left Draco to buy the books for both of them and, ignoring the manager's terrified gaze, she went exploring the isles of books, searching for something that could make her feel normal again.

Leafing through a tome Harry and Ron would have described as a suicide, she didn't notice the presence of Molly and Ginny Weasley, who looked at her like she was the Dark Lord herself, until it was too late. She immediately closed the book and returned to the main area, hoping they didn't recognize her and that Nagini climbing on her legs would help.

She found Malfoy still with the manager, paying for their stuff.

"Come on, we have to go."

"What's the matter, Granger? We have the whole afternoon." He Shrunk the books and shoved them into his pocket.

Hermione took a deep breath and clenched her fists to prevent herself from hexing him, "Malfoy, I'm not joking. We need to go, now. Gin…"

"Hermione?" …Ginny's here. Only at that point, the blond decided to turn around and acknowledge her existence.

Hermione wanted to talk to them way too much for someone who had been ordered not to. She didn't notice the Dark Mark was almost entirely visible from the three quarters sleeve she was wearing. Mrs Weasley was staring at it, horrified. Ginny's eyes were tearing up.

The only thing echoing in her head were the words Malfoy was pronouncing with a smirk, "Well, well, Granger, you're disobeying the Dark Lord, again? The sheer Gryffindor courage suites you, I have to admit," he burst into laughter and she couldn't help but point her wand at his throat. The smirk was gone from his face, replaced by an annoyed grimace.

"Go on, do it," he spat, but she was positive she'd be punished if they came back to the Manor and Malfoy wasn't in the exact shape he'd left in.

Behind her Ginny and Mrs Weasley had backed away. Hermione turned around and looked at them, hoping they would understand, and left the shop, "Come, Nagini."

After an afternoon of school supplies shopping, they finally made it back at Malfoy Manor. Following what had occurred at the bookshop, Malfoy recovered quite quickly and got back to his snarky, spoiled self, bragging about how he was going to tell the Dark Lord she'd disobeyed his orders.

"For the last time, I have _not_. I have barely looked at them and, don't you think, I know about your secret encounters with the little Greengrass. I can assure you, Malfoy, that if I go down because of you, you're coming down with me," Hermione hissed, after feeling Nagini finally getting away from her, probably going back to his master.

"What is going on here?" Narcissa Malfoy's low voice interrupted them and they both turned around.

"Nothing's happening, Mrs Malfoy. I was right about to go to sleep, it's been a long day and I'm not very hungry," she glanced at him one last time and headed to her room.

§§§

Hermione had been rolling over in her bed for hours, not getting any sleep. The only thing she could think about was that they knew. They knew, and they would hate her. How could she go back to Hogwarts, see them every day and pretend they don't exist? They would hate her, and she wasn't ready to see hate in their eyes.

She found herself wishing she was like Malfoy, as wrong as it sounded, whose eyes wouldn't show any emotion to save his life.

The first time she heard knocking she thought she imagined it. The second time, though, it was louder, so she got up, hoping the Dark Lord didn't decide to have a meeting in the middle of the night. With her great surprise, she found Malfoy waiting in front of her bedroom door.

"What do you want?"

"This is an official request for political asylum," he said, a bitter and sarcastic tone in his voice.

"What? Why? Your room is huge, barricade yourself in there." she was about to close the door, but he stopped her.

"This is precisely the problem. There are some…," he took a deep breath, "Noises, coming from the room next to mine. People in here apparently don't know how to cast a bloody silencing spell." His voice was low and full of contempt – as per usual – but this time if didn't seem to be directed at her.

Hermione raised a brow. "That's it? You're making this whole scene for some noise? It's absurd, even for you."

"Do let me know when there's someone in your family fucking the Dark Lord next door." It seemed like admitting that had cost him his entire fortune. Hermione merely grimaced, disgusted. She didn't even get to think about an answer, when the boy added, "I don't want to talk about it. Will you let me in or not?"

In spite of herself, she let him in. "Fine. But you're sleeping on the floor." She folded her arms above her chest as he looked pretty confused.

"I am a Malfoy!" he growled as it was the most obvious thing on earth.

"I don't see your point."

"My point is I'm not sleeping on the floor," Malfoy almost shouted.

"If you want to come back to your room so you can have a bed all to yourself, no one's stopping you."

He scowled for a few seconds, then took a pillow from her bed and tossed it to the other side of the room, and turned back around to look at her, expectantly. Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her wand at it, transfiguring it into another four-poster like hers, so he could leave her alone and they could both get some sleep.

Bellatrix Lestrange was the one to wake them up the next day, not without Hermione's surprise, or hers, seeing Draco in the Mudblood's bedroom. The situation was a little equivocal, considering the mutual disdain between the two of them.

The Dark Lord had obviously announced – again – another meeting, and why would Bellatrix waste such a good opportunity to crawl at the feet of her master?

"Draco, how can you even stand to share your air with a Mudblood?" she asked him, looking like she was about to vomit.

Malfoy didn't even look up from the pillow he had plunged his head into and Hermione was trying to keep in mind she could _not_ hex her.

"I thought the Dark Lord told you not to call her that anymore. I have no intention of attending another punishment," he said.

"He may have mentioned that. Why did you spend the night here?"

"Before you answer that, could you take this outside?" Hermione intervened. "I should get dressed and you both know how much he hates late-comers." She somehow managed to find the strength to get the blankets off her and open the closet without even looking at the two leaving her room. She looked at her clothes, making a face: everything was strictly black.

She'd got used to it by now, but it was still a little off-putting and it remembered her of Snape and his shadow-like cloaks.

Hermione took a black wool sweater and some black jeans, sighing. English weather had her sick already and winter hadn't even properly started yet.

§§§

Draco would have preferred running naked in the Forbidden Forest at night, rather than being in that bloody hallway alone with his aunt.

"Well? I demand an answer, Draco," she repeated.

"Believe me, you don't," he muttered, hoping to get her off that topic.

"Yes, I do. Tell me, now."

Luckily, they'd arrived in front of his bedroom door, where Draco stopped and, taking a deep breath, turned around to face her. "Do try to be quieter, I don't want to sleep at Granger's again."

He entered his room and locked it, feeling almost reassured when he didn't hear any hexes in the hallway. He didn't see his aunt's face, the face of someone who'd just got deeply offended.

Nearly twenty minutes later, Draco was sitting in his usual seat in the Drawing Room of Malfoy Manor and looking at Granger.

"My loyal Death Eaters," the Dark Lord started as he took his seat, "I have caught wind there is a base of the Order in the countryside of the Muggle London. I know you are eager to fight, so I will make this quick. I want those of you I'll name to Apparate there and kill every man, woman or child you find. I do not care whether they are Purebloods, Half-bloods or Mudbloods, I want them dead. Have I made myself clear?"

As a pair of red eyes were scanning the room, the immediate murmurs of approval were a confirmation that he had indeed made himself clear.

In the meanwhile, though, Draco was still scanning Granger, noticing how she was pretty close to being open book. He could clearly see the emotions she was trying to hide like she had them tattooed on her forehead.

She was evidently worried, probably thinking there were some of her old friends among the people they were supposed to kill, it didn't take a genius to figure that out, and Draco barely restrained himself from snorting.

He'd never looked at her closely and now that he did, the only thing that came to his mind was the popping question of how she'd managed to stay alive that long. It was so easy to read her he was surprised the Dark Lord hadn't killed her yet.

"Bellatrix, my dear, you, along with Hermione, Yaxley, Draco, Dolohov, Macnair and Nott will be the ones to go."

It was time to do something.

§§§

Hermione was about to leave the Drawing Room when Malfoy took her arm and dragged her into a hallway. She thought about hexing him, but she saw the room was still pretty full, so she left her wand right where it was.

"What the hell, Malfoy!" as soon as they were in a deserted hallway, she turned around and faced him.

"Do you even try not to get me killed?"

"What are you talking about?"

That was truly all she needed at that point, another Malfoy-freak-out moment. Like he hadn't been the one to throw her right in the lion's maw. Well, in the snake's maw, but whatever.

"You may not get it, but he implicitly ordered me to keep you alive, so if something happens to you, I won't live long enough to have a laugh at it," he hissed and looked around to make sure no one had followed them.

Hermione honestly considered the hypothesis he'd gone insane overnight.

" _What_ are you talking about? I didn't do or say anything that could get me, or you, killed."

"At least try not to let them know how much you don't want to kill those people."

"I don't want to kill them, how can I pretend I do? They're my friends!" She looked at him in disbelief.

"Not anymore," his voice was, as usual, cold as ice.

"How do you do that?" She muttered. "How do you make it look like the only thing you feel is boredom? Like you're too superior to even dignify us with your attention, as if feeling something, for once, killed you."

"My life depends on not showing any emotion, I'm sure you understand that much," he scoffed. "You want to know how I do it? _Do not care_. Think about something that bores you to death, whether it's History of Magic or the people surrounding you. Stare at something and don't let your eyes wander, act like nothing else but you exists. Do whatever the hell you want, Granger, but do it. In case you haven't noticed, the killing curse is not so unforgivable in here. I am not dying because of you." His grey eyes were hard and unbothered at the same time, and she could tell he was annoyed.

Hermione couldn't believe her own ears. Did he just help her? No, she reasoned. He'd helped himself.

§§§

As soon as the Death Eaters Apparated at the borders of the Order's base, it all degenerated into chaos.

Hermione was trying to do what Malfoy had mentioned earlier, assiduously thinking about Quidditch – the sport that bored the life out of her.

Praying that her expression would remain blank, she recognised a few familiar faces: Tonks, Lupin, Andromeda Tonks and, behind them, some barely over-age boys she had seen in the hallways in Hogwarts. Her head told her they were Slytherins, but she hoped she was wrong.

Weeks before, the Dark Lord had decided there was no point in hiding behind their masks anymore, since he now controlled the whole Ministry of Magic, so she was completely exposed. Hermione was invaded by panic when Tonks and Lupin's eyes landed on her, but she forced herself to stay focused.

It wasn't the first time she was in an attack group, nor the first time the attack was directed at the Order of the Phoenix, and this time couldn't, or shouldn't, be different for any reason.

Malfoy was just out of the corner of her eye and she saw him slightly jump when a killing cursed missed Andromeda for mere inches and she Stunned him.

In the meanwhile, Hermione was dealing with what she remembered to be a Slytherin who, although not being great with spells, was giving her a hard time because of her low attention. When the kid almost hexed her, she decided to push everything out her mind and only focus on him. She Stunned him senseless and took a deep breath before pointing the wand at him and pronounce the spell, as Dolohov stopped her.

"Leave this one to me, you go check the house." He didn't even look at her, his whole attention was on the unconscious boy in front of him.

She nodded and headed to the house to check if there were other members of the Order, though she doubted it.

After checking the empty bedrooms and baths and every other room she found, she ran down the stairs and went check the last door, that she found being locked.

Hermione tried with a quick Alohomora, that didn't even make the door flinch, then with a she Blasted it open. What she saw almost made her lose balance.

Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood, who was carrying a child in her arms – Teddy Lupin, she supposed –, both turned towards her. Behind them, the curtains were closed on the window.

Hermione's eyes fell on their joined hands, then on Zabini, who flinched and looked at her.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The less she knew, the better, she decided. "Get lost. Apparate, or use a Portkey, I don't care. Just get the hell out of here, or they'll kill you."

"We can't." Blaise looked like his old self again and Luna, next to him, had her usual dreamy expression and a vague smile on her lips, "The wards won't let us and there are Death Eaters on the front, we can't get out."

Hermione sighed and grabbed the first thing she saw, which in that case was a mug. She put it on the table between the three of them. "Luna, give me your wand," she said. "Quickly."

The girl handed it to her and she used it to cast a _Portus_ on the mug, thinking of the Burrow.

The use of the spell that created a Portkey was strictly monitored by the Ministry – hence by the Death Eaters – and she couldn't be caught using it.

The mug glowed of an eerie blue and then came back to normal. Hermione handed Luna back her wand. "This will take you to the Burrow. If you tell someone I've helped you, I will find you and kill you both myself." She said, but knew it wasn't the truth. If anyone ever found out, the Dark Lord would kill her first.

"Thank you," Luna smiled and dragged astonished Blaise to touch the mug at the same moment as her, then they disappeared.


	2. September 1st

Only Andromeda Tonks had managed to make it out alive and Disapparate. Tonks was dead. Lupin too, along with any other inhabitant of the house, apart from Luna, Blaise, and Teddy – or at least she hoped so.

She had told no one what she'd done. She was positive Malfoy knew nothing about Blaise, despite being his best friend, or whatever it was they were. He treated him as equal, that must count for something…

Hermione felt like she was getting better at being unreadable. She'd taken a random book from one of the giant bookshelves in Malfoy Manor and started reading absently on an armchair in the hall overlooking the large, dimly lit, and sumptuously decorated hallway that led to the front door.

She was doing anything in her power not to start thinking, which would inevitably lead to crying. Reading magic literature was a lot better. Or, at least, she guessed it was magic literature, since she was so nervous that she was reading the lines without really understanding them.

Jumped slightly when the bell rang, Hermione grimaced. It was probably Greyback with other traitors or rebels. Wind burst into the room as Narcissa Malfoy opened the door with her wand and she tried to look uninterested when Blaise Zabini – of all people – entered the Manor.

"Blaise, what are you doing here? Have you come to see Draco?" Narcissa's cold voice echoed in the room and she saw Blaise look at her out of the corner of her eye and then nod.

"Yes, Mrs Malfoy. Is he here?"

"Yes, dear. I'll have one of the elves call him for you," she said, and left towards the library.

At least, Blaise had the common sense to wait for the woman to leave the room, before speaking. "Have you…?" there was no need to end the sentence for Hermione to understand.

"No."

"But you are thinking about it," he stated as a matter of fact, as he got closer to her and sat on a couch.

"What makes you think that?" she sighed. Right when she thought she was being good at hiding her emotions.

"Don't worry, your face didn't give you away. Draco was a good teacher, I can tell. It looks like I'm speaking to him, if it wasn't that he would never read that book. We studied _Travel with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart in second year and I'm pretty sure you know it by heart," he said, while looking rather smug. With a sigh, she decided he was right, so she closed the book and murmured a spell to make it fly back to his place on the bookshelf.

"Well, I guess you want an explanation for what you saw."

"Explanations are the last thing I want," she rushed out, before a confused Blaise Zabini could add anything else, "The less I know, the better I feel. Besides, I don't care about your love problems, I barely know you."

Draco Malfoy appeared from the hallway leading to the furthest wing of the Manor.

"What's going on? You'd better not be fucking my mate, Granger," he smirked and she couldn't hold back a disgusted groan.

"I have things to do," she just said and Accioed her cloak, then left Malfoy Manor.

The truth was that Hermione had absolutely nothing to do, but she desperately wanted to get out of the Manor and, quite frankly, out of the Wizarding World.

Walking out of the front door, Hermione Disapparated and landed behind her Muggle house, where neighbors couldn't see a girl randomly appearing out of nowhere. The house she had Obliviated her parents to forget. She still doubted it was safe to make them come back, since she was scared to death the Dark Lord would harm them – or worse, _she_ would.

She Accioed the keys from her charmed bag and entered, closed the door and sat on the floor, taking her head in her hands. After a good ten minutes she spent despairing, she forced herself to get up and get a hold of herself.

Walking around her home, she smiled sadly at the sight of the pictures of her parents without her. She still had to make a decision and, even though she knew what was the right thing to do, she didn't have the courage to admit it to herself. Her old bedroom, now blank and empty, felt suffocating and she couldn't help but feel an outsider in her own home.

Her familiar bedroom was now a guest room, all of her things gone, the red blankets replaced with some blank, white ones; her books, her desk, her pictures, all gone.

She got out of there before bursting into tears and stopped by her mom's library to take some books with her, readings her mother had taught her to love. She was suddenly eager to leave her childhood house.

Locking the door, she walked to the café she would always go to, and ordered a coffee to go. The cold weather of London made her feel even worse. It wasn't raining, for once, but it was still cloudy and dark outside. After paying for her coffee, she left the store and walked to a desert alley she could use to Disapparate back to Diagon Alley.

Still a little shook, she decided to take a walk there before going back to the Manor. When she eyed Sugarplum's Sweets Shop, she just couldn't resist and stopped by to buy some Pumpkin Pasties, her favourite. She passed Quality Quidditch Supplies and Broomstix trying not to think about Harry and Ron while avoiding Flourish & Blott's so she wouldn't get stuck in there for hours, reading.

Eventually, when she noticed she was starting to get too much attention from the people, Hermione Apparated back to Malfoy Manor and waited for the wrought-iron gates to let her pass through them as if they were smoke, as the front door swung open to let her in. Hermione took off her jacket and Transfigured it back into a cloak.

"Finally." Severus Snape always had the same disgusted voice when talking to her.

"What have I missed?" she sighed and threw her cloak over an armchair.

"Miss Granger, I am not your _Daily Prophet_."

Hermione rolled her eyes and made her way towards the Drawing Room – that wasn't much used for actual drawing since the Dark Lord had taken his residence in Malfoy Manor – where the House-elves had almost finished set the ornate table for dinner.

She flinched, though, when she caught sight of what was happening in the room. They had taken Mundungus Fletcher.

Who knew what he'd tried to steal this time, she thought, since there was no way he was caught for saying the Dark Lord's name. The witch made a face when he gave a sign that he'd recognised her.

"Bellatrix, can you take this somewhere else? We eat in here," she sighed.

"So?"

"So, I don't like the smell of blood before dinner. There are cellars, use them." she took her place at the table and observed the scene in front of her.

Hermione couldn't give away anything she was thinking, but she did let a soft smile cross her lips when she stretched her arm to get some pumpkin juice and Mundungus looked horrified at her Mark. Same reaction every time. People were so predictable.

"Bellatrix, Hermione, I thought I'd been clear about fighting one another." the Dark Lord watched her lover, or whatever Bellatrix Lestrange was. "My dear, do take your prisoner to a cellar, dinner's ready."

Hermione noticed the House-elves had indeed disappeared. She slightly bowed her head when he sat next to her, then took a breadstick, waiting for the others to sit.

§§§

The first of September finally came and Hermione wasn't eager to come back to Hogwarts this year. Thinking about all the people that would be there made her nervous and coming back without Harry and Ron gave her chills.

"Hermione, you need to calm down. You're making _me_ nervous too," Daphne Greengrass chuckled near her.

"I can't," she admitted, annoyed. Having no control over her body was seriously irritating.

"Well, you're terribly anxiogenic." Daphne passed a hand through her blonde hair and Hermione couldn't but feel incredibly out of place, as any other time she was near her.

Daphne wasn't the snob, spoiled girl she thought she was. It was kind of weird, but she had actually been a distraction for her. Hermione hadn't been speaking with another girl for a long time when she met her and Daphne had become her friend, which was exactly what she needed. She didn't really care about her blood, she said, it was only an occasional play to stay alive.

"Distract me, please," she decided. Thinking about the same thing all over again was of no use.

"Fine." she looked around to make sure no one was listening. "I've seen them," she then whispered with a twisted grin.

"Seen who?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

"Draco and Astoria," she clearly couldn't wait to tell someone.

"Wait, you spied on them?" she laughed.

The witch smirked and nodded at the train.

"We'll wait on the train." She elbowed Malfoy's arm and he barely acknowledged her, before returning to his Quidditch talk with Zabini – who was surprisingly still alive – and Nott.

The two girls managed to get their trunks on the Hogwarts Express and still make it out alive, and occupied the first empty compartment they found.

"I swear I could get serious mental issues after what I saw."

Hermione laughed and sat near the window.

Daphne made a disgusted face as she closed the door behind her. "I know Draco since I was born and Astoria's my sister, but they just don't work as a couple. She's too childish and he's too… too Malfoy. It was the most awkward thing I've ever spied on, and I spy on a lot of people."

"C'mon, tell me," she chuckled and crossed her legs next to the witch. She didn't really want to know, but she'd missed the girl talk, and she needed a distraction, or she'd start thinking again, which would be of no good.

"It was disgusting, but maybe it's because we're talking about my little sister and Draco, who's basically a bother to me." Her expression was still not please, half twisted in a grimace. "I don't think it was their first time, though, they were way too intimate and now I finally understand why half the female body in Hogwarts is into him. Merlin, he knows what he's doing," Daphne broke into laughter and shook her head.

"You've just said you think of him as a brother," she started chuckling too, mostly because of Daphne's contagious laughter, "And please spare me the details, it's still Malfoy we're talking about."

"Oh, don't tell me you don't think he's attractive!" she looked at her the way you look at someone hospitalised in the Janus Thickey Ward for irrevocable spell damage at St Mungo's.

"Of course I don't." Hermione raised a confused brow.

Daphne was about to reply, when Blaise Zabini opened the door and sat in front of them.

"What are you girls talking about? Hope you're not plotting anything against the Wizarding World."

"Funny," she snorted.

"Granger, you're hurting me," he pretended to dry off a tear and placed a hand on his heart.

"Fitting, have you ever considered an acting career?" she asked with fake interest, but he just rolled his eyes and smirked.

He was about to answer, but Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott entered the compartment and sat respectively next to Blaise and Daphne.

"I have to admit, Granger, you can take the witch out of Gryffindor but not the Gryffindor out of the witch," Theo said, and she was left starting at him questioningly. "You're not that bad. Blaise needs someone to put him in his place, his jokes are terrible."

Hermione smiled at that and shook her head in disbelief. "You're not that bad yourself," she said. Maybe she could get used to it.

She didn't see Ginny walk past their compartment and look away, though, nor Neville's damp eyes or Luna slightly looking at Blaise.

§§§

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was tense. The tables and the dorms had been reassigned and there was nothing cheerful about the feast.

The first and second years were assigned the Hufflepuff dorms and table.

Third and fourth years, Gryffindor.

Fifth and sixth years to Ravenclaw.

And last, seventh years were going to live in the Slytherin dungeons.

That meant Hermione was more than a little susceptible.

The meals were one thing, she could easily sit at the opposite side of the table and avoid them, but she couldn't do that for the whole year if they were going to live in the same dorms.

And there were no space problems, since the students coming back were less than the past years. She was the only Muggle-born left, of course, and the few Half-bloods who managed to leave England had done so.

Her mood only got worse if she thought about the final part of their way to Hogwarts, when Pansy Parkinson, who clearly didn't know about Draco and Astoria, entered their compartment and stuck to him as if there was no tomorrow.

Hermione had given Daphne a puzzled look as she just shrugged. Luckily enough, Astoria was in another compartment with her Pureblood friends, who were almost as frivolous as her.

However, the worst moment of the evening occurred when the time for the Headmaster's speech came.

Severus Snape had obviously reminded everyone that every activity tied in any way to the Order of the Phoenix and every initiative that went against the Dark Lord's interests were going to be severely punished.

He reported, then, Filch's usual complaints, the list of their professors, and other stuff that Hermione, nervous and hostile towards everyone, didn't bother to pay attention to.

"I would also like to add that, although Miss Hermione Granger is, as many of you know, a Muggle-born, any of you who will even dare to point a wand in her direction will deal with the Dark Lord himself. I am sure Miss Granger is able to defend herself very well, but he gave specific orders about this and I am only warning you."

By that time, Daphne had to snatch her wand away. Professor Snape seemed to be mocking her with his usual blank voice.

A chorus of whispers echoed in the Great Hall and the glances felt like daggers in her back.

She felt a kick on her shin and she turned towards Malfoy as he lightly nodded at Snape. Hermione took a deep breath and forced herself to smile and thank the Headmaster with a nod, although she only wanted to poison him. She'd always hated the man.

After the feast, they all went back to the Slytherin common room, which Hermione had to admit was breath-taking. It was a dungeon-like room with greenish lamps and chairs, with lots of low backed black and dark green button-tufted, leather sofas; its windows looked out into the depths of the Hogwarts lake and there was a gloomy, mysterious aura.

The space was decorated with tapestries featuring the adventures of famous Medieval Slytherins and there were five firestones. On the east side there was a massive library Hermione couldn't wait to dive into and a long table adorned the room everyone went to study in.

To access the dorms there was a mahogany staircase with snakes carved into the wood and,

on top of that, a hallway led to the bedrooms.

"I'm so tired," Theo protested and threw himself on a sofa.

"Is there anything you don't complain about?" despite the scorn, Malfoy sat next to him.

"Look who's talking," she grumbled as she sat in an armchair, noticing that people were now slowly crowding the room. Pansy Parkinson sat in a majestic wood carved chair next to them.

She began blabbering about how excited she was for the new year and how disgusting having to share their air with Gryffindors was. Five minutes later, Theo looked like he wanted to cut his ears off, while Malfoy was merely ignoring her, probably used to treating her voice as background noise.

"I'm out," she groaned and got up, making her way towards the dorms.

"Yeah, me too," Theo looked at her, grateful for giving him the chance to leave.

She pitied Daphne, bound to share a room with her, but the girl was positive Pansy actually got better when you got to know her, although she wasn't ready to agree with her just yet.

She wasn't so surprised the dormitories were as stunning as the common room, as she opened the door to her bedroom. The long hallway had rooms both on the right side and the left side, and she figured out the left part of it was occupied by the girls' dorms, as her room was the last one on the left. Every door had a silver plaque on it with the names of the students living there.

The first thing that came to Hermione's mind as she opened her bedroom door was that her room was outrageously big. It was kind of a circular shape dungeon and it had windowpanes all around it, along with a silver chandelier and lanterns hanging from the ceiling that enlightened the bedroom. At her right there was a door she supposed led to the bathroom, followed by a giant bookshelf that covered all the space between a windowpane and another, and then a wood desk.

The ancient four-posters with green silk hangings and bedspreads embroidered with silver thread was the star of the room. Two more windowpanes framed the bed, while on the left side of the door there was her closet.

A fireplace on the wall opposite to the bed warmed the room, while in front of it there were a black leather sofa and two identical armchairs.

The Slytherin House's presence was everywhere.

§§§

Her first instinct that morning was Stunning the damn alarm.

She had managed some good hours of sleep without the usual nightmares and it happened so rarely she just wanted to stay in bed and hope to fall asleep again. She sighed and got up, though, for it was the first day of school.

While passing in front of the mirror to reach the shower, right next to the bathtub in the beautiful bathroom of her room, she groaned at the sight of her hair.

When she'd finished, she put on her Slytherin uniform and tried not to look in the mirror again.

Someone knocked on the door and she was glad it was only Daphne.

"Good morning!" she was radiant, as always. Almost immediately, she felt the familiar inadequacy fill her.

She moved to let her pass and closed the door, as she noticed how the witch was looking at her. "Come on, say whatever you need to say."

"Can I please shorten your skirt?" she looked at her with that pleading, angelic voice of hers.

"What's wrong with it?" she furrowed her brow and looked at herself.

"It's way too long," she rolled her eyes.

"It's not. This is the dress code."

"It is. Please?" she smiled and chuckled.

"Will you leave me alone if I say yes?"

Daphne nodded.

Although, why not? They had already changed her in every way possible, they had made her torture and kill, what could a shorter skirt do to her?

She heard her friend giggle excitedly, almost childishly, and when she turned around she was already pointing her wand at her. Daphne made her close her eyes and she didn't even dare to ask herself why.

When she'd finished, she wished she had never agreed in the first place. You lend her a hand and she takes the whole damn arm, along with a shoulder and a leg.

Not surprisingly at all, Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger were among the last ones to get in the Great Hall for breakfast.

Hermione was still pretty pissed at her friend for how she'd changed her uniform and for whatever nonverbal spell she cast not to let her shirt, skirt or even tie – a tie that now refused to be tied in the usual perfect knot and automatically loosened up – come back to normal.

The only good part of it was that Daphne actually managed to braid her hair so that it did look more normal and less like a bush.

When they entered the Great Hall, two things happened: Theodore Nott almost choked on his water and everybody was staring at the two of them.

"Granger, for Salazar's grave, where have you been hiding all these years?"

"In a dress-code-friendly uniform," she muttered.

"At least _someone_ appreciates my efforts," Daphne said in response and sat next to her, drawing her hair on her right shoulder.

Hermione rolled her eyes and poured herself a cup of coffee, then grabbed a muffin. She looked at her schedule of classes, grimacing at the double Potions waiting for her. After that, Advanced Arithmancy, Transfiguration with McGonagall – she just couldn't wait for her disapproving glances – and finally Ancient Runes and Muggle Studies, since the subject had been made compulsory.

A perfect day, really.

"What?" she mumbled as she realized Zabini had just said something to her.

"I said, we need to go or we'll be late for Potions."

"Yeah, I'm coming. Who else has it?" she took her schedule and bag and got up.

"Draco and Pansy."

Oh well, that was music to her ears.

"My day only keeps getting better," she took a deep breath and started walking, along with Blaise. She saw Malfoy getting up as well and catch up with them, but thank Merlin Pansy stayed behind, still talking to Millicent Bulstrode.

The Potions classroom was enlightened by some torches as usual and it was almost empty, except for a group of former Hufflepuffs, too scared to say anything. Professor Slughorn was there, though.

"Hermione, my dear!" his loud voice was still the same, "And Mr Malfoy and Zabini!"

Before the two Slytherins next to her could answer, she smiled. "Good morning to you too, Professor. It's very nice to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual, my dear. Pretty unusual to see the three of you together, though. I remember there was some bad blood," the Professor said and looked questioningly at them.

"Granger's finally chosen the right side to be on. Consequently, I think you will see us together quite often from now on," Malfoy stated before she could say anything.

Slughorn brandished a surprised expression that was meant to hide the worry, mumbling something, and went back to his desk, as the other students were arriving.

The three of them took their seats at the back of the class, regardless of Hermione's complaints. She had every intention to sit next to Blaise, definitely nicer and much more civilized than Malfoy was, but he sat next to her anyway. She glared at him and he smirked.

"I have to help you, remember?"

"I don't need your help."

"Really? You didn't get your precious Outstanding in Potions last year, Slughorn's attention was all on Potter."

"Well, you didn't get it in the other subjects!" she was outraged.

"First of all, I was too focused on the Dark Lord's orders to give a damn about school and, second of all, I don't care. _You_ do," he smirked. Again.

Hermione didn't find anything smart to say, so she hushed and turned around, pretending he didn't even exist, while he just laughed at her.

"Draco, don't be so discourteous." Blaise, at the table before them, turned around. At the same time, Luna and Neville entered the class and she focused her attention on him.

Luna Lovegood and Blaise Zabini exchanged such a brief look you'd only have noticed if you were observing them, which she was.

If the Slytherin who was now talking to Malfoy was really a part of the Order – since nothing else could explain his presence in that house or his relationship with Luna – then she had a lot more than a pair of grey eyes to worry about.


	3. An old castle

If Hermione Granger had thought the double Potions would ruin her day, she was wrong. For she hadn't attended Transfiguration yet.

Snape should have sent her his bests along with her schedule, since she had most classes in common with Draco, beside Advanced Arithmancy, Ancient Runes – which he didn't attend – and Care of Magical Creatures – which _she_ didn't attend. Her schedule was either a coincidence, or Snape was incredibly eager to help his beloved Draco with his task – again.

They were practising the Human Transfiguration that day, nothing better for her mood, that Malfoy was so good at ruining.

He regretted being her desk mate, though. Practicing the spell was inevitable and she couldn't help herself but Transfigure him into a ferret, when the time came.

In her defence she could say he made a lovely ferret, with soft, almost-white-blond fur, the same shade as Draco's hair. She chuckled and carefully held him in front of her by his two front legs, while the poor thing hissed at her like there was no tomorrow.

"You know, you're the most adorable ferret. Maybe I should leave you like this for a while, you might learn some manners." Hermione had to admit, she hadn't had this much fun for months.

"While your performance was impressive, Miss Granger, I'm afraid you can't have a new pet." Professor McGonagall came near her with her wand in her hand, barely managing to hide a smile, while the whole class stared at them.

"Are you really sure, Professor?" she frowned and chuckled. It would've been nice to keep him like that, now that Crooks was on holiday with her parents.

"Unfortunately, yes. Even though, it wouldn't hurt him to stay like that until lunch, since he's done nothing but disturb my lesson today," her professor said and walked back to her desk.

Hermione still saw a hint of care in her eyes, although she surely knew whom she was forced to be loyal to now.

They still had a good half an hour till the end of the class, time that Hermione spent playing with ferret-Draco like he was a stuffed animal, making him dance holding his paws or tickling his belly.

When finally the ring bell, the ferret seemed the most relieved of all, in his furry form, and, after she had done packing her bag, she pretended she didn't hear Ginny's calls for her and, with Draco in her arms, left the classroom. She took it easy in the hallway, caressing Draco's fur now and then – wondering if his hair was that soft too.

"You know, it's beyond me how you can make such an adorable animal but that annoying of a human." She was holding him tight to her chest, since she was pretty sure he'd kill her if he fell. "And you're so cute and soft."

It was a shame Snape was in her same hallway, really.

He looked at her for a few seconds and his eyes lingered on the animal in her arms. "Can you give me a good reason why Mr. Malfoy's a ferret again, Miss Granger?"

"Yes, actually. We were working on Human Transfiguration earlier and Draco so nicely offered himself to let me try first."

The ferret started moving in her arms, protesting. He didn't exactly offer, to be honest.

"Transfigure him back immediately. I may not be able to punish you, but I can report it to the Dark Lord."

"And I'm sure the Dark Lord will have a good laugh at it, after telling him Malfoy bothered me during all my classes so I couldn't even properly take notes," she complained, bowed down and put Draco on the floor to Transfigure him back into a human being.

The boy did take a while to stand on two feet again, but when he did he glared at her.

"How _dare_ you?!" he screamed, and pointed his wand at her.

"Why are you mad? It was the whole point of the class, I'm just being a good student, Malfoy," Hermione protested, trying not to laugh.

Snape shook his head at the two of them. "Being Death Eaters will not be an excuse for you to disrupt school activities, both of you."

"I disrupted nothing, _he_ started it," she scowled at Malfoy, now leaning on the wall for support.

"I do not care who started it, Miss Granger. You are adults. Try behaving like one," he stated, and left with that last warning.

"You do that again, Granger, and I _will_ hex you into oblivion and gladly deal with the consequences," Malfoy hissed in her ear, after storming off to what she presumed would be the Great Hall.

She followed him to lunch, and they sat next to an annoyed Pansy Parkinson and in front of an amused Daphne Greengrass, who was trying to convince an exasperated Blaise Zabini to date a sixth-year girl from Ravenclaw.

Hermione ignored the whole student body staring at them once again and took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"Oi, this thing is getting out of hand," Theodore Nott said and turned towards them.

She looked at Malfoy and found he was just as confused as she was, only angrier. "What are you talking about?" Hermione asked, tasting her stew.

"People are starting to bet on when and how you'll kill the other," he laughed.

"Well, that _did_ cross your mind today, didn't it?" she asked Malfoy and repressed a smile.

"You will pay for what you've done," he merely answered and kept eating.

"Wait, what have I missed?" Theo frowned.

"I've Transfigured him into a ferret and now I don't think his ego will ever get over it." she earned herself a death glare from Malfoy.

"And why on earth wasn't I there to see that?" he looked so sorry she almost felt sympathy for him.

"You're hilarious." Draco didn't seem to be amused at all, though.

"And charming," Theo smirked.

"It was a shame Snape caught me before I could bring him to lunch. He was of better company anyway," she shook her head in disbelief when she saw that Draco Lucius Malfoy, heir to one of the most noble and ancient Pureblood families in the Wizarding World, was pouting. She didn't think he realized he was actually doing it, but it sure was an accurate description for the look on his face. He knew bloody well he couldn't hurt her.

"Come on, Blaise, just this one time!" she heard Daphne plead.

"Forget it." Blaise was clearly not having it. He clearly had more patience than Hermione ever had with Daphne. Usually, she'd give in after a while.

"But–"

"No, I am perfectly capable to decide for my own love life," he interrupted her.

"And since when do you have a love life, Blaise?" she sceptically raised a brow and the boy realised he'd just been caught off guard.

He remained silent for a few seconds, probably contemplating his possibilities, then turned towards a Slytherin she didn't recognize and asked him something about the first free weekend.

Outraged by not receiving an answer despite her efforts, Daphne made an annoyed Theo exchange seats and sat in front of Malfoy, staring at him and waiting for him to dignify her with his attention. When Draco finally looked at her, surrendering, Daphne smiled.

"This… thing with my sister has to end, whatever it is. I'm telling you as a friend, you are a shit couple. I have seen things that may have disturbed my existence for good."

"What do you mean?" Malfoy asked, more wary than confused.

"What Daphne here means to say," Hermione intervened, " Is that she would've been a great friend to keep those things to herself." She looked at Daphne and rolled her eyes. "I would have lived a much better life without knowing about your hidden gifts."

Hermione tried considerably not to cringe at the thought, while Draco Malfoy turned white.

"I want to believe you didn't really discuss my hidden gifts, as you so eloquently put it."

"I do too," she muttered.

"It's quite disturbing actually. Daph, you're a sister to me and, Granger, you sit at the Dark Lord's left. Not only I have no interest in profaning you, but, if I did, he'd Crucio me senseless, and I'm not exactly looking forward to it," he stated, his gaze shifting back and forth between Daphne and her. And, since karma was a bitch, Neville happened to pass in front of them and heard Malfoy and his big mouth.

"Hermione?" The boy started at her horrified. She didn't know what to say, so she kept on her mask of indifference and raised her chin. "How could you, Hermione? He killed Harry."

"We're at war, Neville," she said with a blank voice. "People die."

"What about Ron?" He was shaking his head and his eyes flickered towards Malfoy. He avoided her gaze and Hermione asked herself if he really didn't know, or if he just wanted to provoke her. But that wasn't Neville, he didn't just wander around the school starting fights with people.

Ginny stopped behind him and placed an arm on his shoulder, asking what was happening.

"Ron?" she asked, a hysterical chuckle escaped her lips. They believed him lost. She looked first at Ginny, then at Neville. "Ron's dead."

The younger Wesley would have fallen to the ground if Neville didn't catch her in time. She saw tears ran down her face and she looked at her like she had killed him herself.

Neville took her away without any further glance in her direction.

Daphne put an arm on her back and asked her if she was fine. Hermione didn't answer. After a few minutes, she just muttered she was no longer hungry and almost ran away, ignoring Malfoy's calls.

Once she was out of the Great Hall, she started to run, almost falling down a couple of times when the staircases felt like moving. Madame Pomfrey jumped out of her seat when she saw her in such a hurry and asked her if someone was hurt.

"No, everyone's fine," she was forced to say. "I just came to ask you if you had any Draught of Peace?"

The nurse eyed her suspiciously, but motioned for her to follow. "Of course, dear. Come."

She trailed behind the old lady towards her office, as she asked no question. The students, her in particular, often asked for it to calm down before exams or tests, and the witch probably thought that's what she needed it for, although it was barely the second day everyone was back in Hogwarts.

Hermione took a whitish vile and handed it to her.

"Do you also have some Dreamless Sleep Potion?" She took the Draught and smiled.

"Yes, here you are." She gave her another dark blue vial. "Now, I don't think I need to remind you what happens if you use too much, do I?"

"No, I know the side effects. I'll use it carefully, I promise. Thank you, Madame Pomfrey," she gave her a thankful smile.

"You are very welcome," the old witch said, smiling back at her.

Hermione took a deep breath and left the Infirmary, stopping right outside to take a sip of the Draught of Peace, hoping it'd help her calm down and make the thoughts disappear.

The rest of the day wasn't so bad, Malfoy had learned his lesson about being so damn noisy during lessons and was still confident in keeping his haughty pout up. Thank Merlin, he didn't ask any questions.

Draco Malfoy was the most fickle person she had ever met. She'd thought about skipping dinner, but he wouldn't let her, telling her that she'd still have to see them, one place or another. And he added, with his usual lack of sensibility, that she'd better get used to their presence, since she couldn't permanently make herself invisible to avoid them. Hermione was itching to differ and tell him she still had Harry's Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map – he'd left them in her charmed bag during the run – so she could very much be invisible and avoid them as long as she wanted.

§§§

Hermione had tried everything, _everything_ , to make her uniform come back to its old self, but Daphne was clearly a better witch than she had imagined. For all that was worth, she could as well buy a new uniform, cause the thing was bloody spell-proof.

She sighed and looked at her clothes as if she could burn them right away and sighed when she heard a knock on the door.

"I am quite tempted to hex you right now. What do you want?"

Blaise Zabini asking for her help was the last thing she needed.

"Daphne's tormenting me because I let it slip that I actually have a love life," he muttered, looking around suspiciously as if to make sure no one was listening.

"Yeah, welcome to the last months of my life. I thought I've told you I want to know nothing about your love life, haven't I?" She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow.

"This is not about my love life, it's about my mental health!" He hissed.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't give a damn about your mental health, to be honest."

"Come on, at least distract her for a few hours, Luna and I–"

She didn't even let him finish the sentence, she just stepped back and closed the door in his face. Hermione shook her head and returned to her bed, where her uniform was lying on the green silk sheets.

Maybe she could leave it the way it was. Or, maybe, she could burn it and pretend it was an accident, then buy a new one and don't let anyone who looked like a Greengrass get near it.

"What the hell," she murmured, eventually, and tossed the clothes back into her closet.

She sat on the sofa and put her legs beneath her, opening Pride and Prejudice to a random page, like she always did when she wanted to read again a book she'd already finished.

Elizabeth and her uncles were visiting Pemberley, as she was so surprised to hear the domestic talk so good of her master, since he hadn't been exactly nice to her.

A walk around the property and when they came back to the manor they met Darcy himself because of his early arrival. He was being oddly polite to Elizabeth, trying to make a good impression, even.

When she was little, Hermione always dreamt about a love so beautiful as theirs, or like Jane and Rochester's – minus the crazy wife locked in the attic – even though not as destructive as Heathcliff and Catherine's, but she didn't see herself falling in love anymore.

How could she? She'd always be afraid the Dark Lord would use it against her like he'd done with Ron. Sighing, Hermione closed the book and threw it on the desk, put a sweater on and left her room.

The Black Lake was pretty calm and she noticed with a hint of joy that no one was there, even if it should've been obvious since the curfew was up.

She sat down and leaned against a tree, closing her eyes.

She should have guessed, though, there was never peace at Hogwarts.

She folded her legs to her chest, regretting not taking a cloak with her, and she just listened to the wind, until a soft sound of footsteps distracted her.

"Whoever you are, get lost, or I'll make you," she muttered.

"It is such a nice evening, isn't it?" Luna Lovegood was her usual, dreamy self.

"What do you want, Luna?" she asked with a sight, although she did drop the aggressiveness in her voice.

"Why didn't you leave us to the Death Eaters, that day?" she sat next to her.

"I'm starting to think I should have. Blaise is barely capable of keeping his mouth shut and Daphne won't leave him alone for at least a few weeks. Malfoy is so head over heels for Astoria he doesn't even see Daphne's spying on them, and it wouldn't normally bother me if it wasn't that now I know things I would've preferred not to even imagine. If I had just let you and Zabini die in there, everyone would be so busy mourning you that I would finally get some peace," she reasoned, but knew, deep down, that she wouldn't have done that. "So, tell me, Luna, why did I save you?"

She looked like she was really thinking about it for a few minutes.

"Because you're not the person Ginny thinks you are. You are still yourself, deep down."

"Did it ever cross your mind that maybe I've always been like this?" It had surely crossed _her_ mind.

She shook her head, "That Mark didn't change you, Hermione."

"Yes, it did. You just don't want to see that," she whispered, as if afraid someone would hear her. "I made a choice and, even if I'm your enemy now, you should always respect everyone's choices, whether they're right or not."

"I don't think you are our enemy. If you were, why would you have helped me and Blaise?" she whispered back.

"I didn't do it for you. Teddy was there and he's too young to know hurt. He doesn't know war, he doesn't deserve to die." She shrugged and got up, looking away so she wouldn't see her tears.

"Where are you going?" Luna stared at her with a curious expression, hard for Hermione to interpret.

"Sleeping, it's way too late for your omnipresent optimism. Goodnight, Luna."

"I think I'm going to stay here a little more, I may find some Nargles," she smiled and got back to staring the lake.

Hermione looked at her for a few seconds, speechless, and then turned around, walking back to the castle.

"Hermione?" she stopped and glanced at the blonde Ravenclaw. "It will be fine."

She forcefully smiled and turned around again. "It won't."

Severus Snape was standing near the door, looking at her. "I thought the Dark Lord told you not to speak to them."

"He told me not to speak to Gryffindors," she stated. "Luna's a Ravenclaw. Plus, it's Looney Lovegood we're talking about, she wouldn't hurt a fly," she walked past him and made her way to the dungeons. He didn't follow her.

Luckily, she didn't catch any of the Prefects on petrol that night. She quickly hid behind a statue when she saw Nearly-Headless Nick turn the corner and she only started walking again when he was gone.

When she got to the staircases and heard footsteps behind her, she took her wand out of her cardigan pocket and turned around.

 _Levicorpus!_

"Granger, put me down!" Malfoy growled, upside down and looking like someone who was about to vomit.

"You shouldn't follow me, you know." She crossed her arms without any intention of reversing the spell.

"I wasn't following you! I happened to have a problem and you happened to be here to solve it for me."

"Oh really? And what makes you think I'd solve your problems?" Hermione laughed, unamused, and narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, come on. It's just a Ravenclaw riddle."

"And why would you want to get into the Ravenclaw Tower?" sixth and fifth-years lived there now.

"Astoria kicked me out without letting me explain and the riddle changed," he said that like it was the most normal thing on earth. Poor thing, such a hard life. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

 _Liberacorpus!_

He fell down with a loud thud.

"Well, what's the question?"

"The more you take, the more you leave behind." He rubbed the back of his head, still on the ground.

Hermione thought about it for a few seconds. "Footsteps."

He blinked once, then twice. "I can't believe it was that simple."

"It's always that simple."

She shook her head and got back to the common room, that she found being almost empty, apart from some students in the common area nearby, studying.

Pansy and Daphne were talking on a couch near a fireplace, three former Hufflepuffs were group-writing an essay and Theo had fallen asleep with his face pressed on the History of Magic book and now he was drooling all over it.

Some Slytherins were dealing with some parchment and galleons, probably some bets, and Seamus Finnigan only managed to Transfigure half a mug into a rat, so Hannah Abbott was laughing near him.

She nodded at Daphne's greeting and headed over to her bedroom.

§§§

The common room was a complete and utter confusion.

Everyone was agitated, some were doing last-minute homework, some were retired in a corner, speaking nervously among themselves and suspiciously looking around the room, while others, like Theodore Nott – but perhaps she shouldn't have been so surprised – were taking a nap on an armchair, or moving back and forth like the Quidditch finals were right around the corner.

What was really suspicious, though, was that the original Slytherins were not worried at all and they had gathered around where Theo was sleeping, looking quite amused and staring at the chaotic common room.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on?" she approached Blaise and Draco.

"The Dark Lord's coming to see how the new administration's going and they're all scared like House-elves." Malfoy earned himself a death glare for his comparison.

"Why didn't I know?"

"No one knew. At least, none of the students. A Hufflepuff, Frederick something, sneaked into the kitchens earlier this morning and he eavesdropped some teachers talking about it. He came back here almost crying and started blabbering that the Dark Lord was coming." Malfoy looked quite smug.

Hermione didn't answer, she just looked around and tried to figure something out so she could stay the more out of the spotlight as possible. She had drawn way too much attention on herself when she'd Transfigured Malfoy in the best version of himself and she hardly wanted to be all over the news while the Dark Lord was between the same four walls as her.

She would wear her mask and attend classes like she'd normally do and hope she could make it through the day without being noticed.

"Granger, how can you even think this early?" Theo complained, looking brand new after his nap.

"Some of us do, you know?" She laughed. Theo was not a morning person.

"Well, that's not me." He looked around and landed his eyes on her again. "They're moving so much I'm feeling sick. I'm going to breakfast, you coming?"

"It's not a bad idea, actually. I'll go take my bag."

He nodded and got off the armchair he was sleeping in with some difficulty, leaning on a wall. Definitely not a morning person.

Hermione chuckled and, after she'd taken her bag, she made sure her bedroom door was locked, returning to the common room, where the situation was the same as she'd left it. "Shall we?"

The boy nodded and waved at Blaise and Draco, who had decided to have some more fun watching their schoolmates despair about the Dark Lord's visit, the two of them obviously being pretty used to his presence, since Lord Voldemort kind of lived in Draco's house.

"So, Malfoy, huh?" Theo broke the silence on their way to the Great Hall.

"Malfoy what?" She frowned.

"Isn't it obvious?"

She shook her head and looked at him. What on earth was he talking about?

"Something's happening and now he's avoiding you," he stated as a matter of fact.

Wait, he was avoiding her? "Nothing's happening and, if he really is avoiding me, then fine. It'll make my day a lot easier."

"Why are you worried? The Dark Lord's presence here shouldn't be a problem for you."

"It's not, I'm just trying to keep a low profile," she shrugged.

"Well, you're not very good at it," he laughed and stopped in front of her.

"What do you mean? I've done nothing so far." She didn't think she'd drawn that much attention.

"Does Transfiguring Draco in a bloody ferret look like nothing to you?"

She groaned, annoyed, while Theo just laughed at her.

Hermione's day was going better than she'd imagined. Herbology in first period with Theo, then Advanced Arithmancy, finally alone, and the double History of Magic with Daphne.

She and Theo had laughed their breakfast time away and she found him to be quite nice to have around. The Slytherin boy told her about his crush on Daphne after she noticed how he'd suddenly changed his expression as the girl was entering the room and Hermione even managed to take off before the Dark Lord's arrival.

During History of Magic, someone knocked and Hermione sighed, moving her hand lightly to alleviate the wrist numbness due to the heavy writing. As she heard several people gasp in the room, she guessed her day wasn't going that well.

"I am desolated to interrupt your lesson, Professor," the Dark Lord started with his usual calm voice and everyone was suddenly more awake than they'd ever been during a History of Magic class. "But I need to speak with Miss Granger."

Hermione looked at Professor Ruff and she saw him absently nod like he was more interested in continuing his lesson than in the Dark Lord's presence there.

She got up and put on a radiant smile, leaving the room.

"Hermione, my dear, I hope things are going well around here. The young Mr Malfoy assured me there have been no problems, do you confirm that?" he started to walk and she followed him.

"Yes, nothing's wrong, my Lord."

"Of course, you would tell me if you found out something about the rebels, am I right?" he wasn't watching her.

"Obviously, my Lord. Although, if I were to find out something, it would only be luck, since the Gryffindors refuse to even admit my existence," she lied and did her best to think about something else, trying to keep her expression as blank as possible. When the Dark Lord finally looked at her, he displayed his usual cold smile and his red eyes lightened up.

"Are you and Mr Malfoy getting along well?"

"Well, he hasn't done anything that would deserve hexing, but we're not the best of friends either. Let's just say we have our ups and downs," she smirked and thought about the Transfiguration class the day before.

"Good. I don't like my Death Eaters to crave killing each other." He suddenly stopped and narrowed his eyes. Pulling up his sleeve, his Mark was burning fierce red, but it wasn't like the others, wasn't like hers, or Draco's, or even Snape's. It was bigger, more detailed and it wasn't blank, it was a bright, vivid crimson and she was pretty sure the skull had fangs, like a serpent. "Dolohov is bearing good news, it seems. You may come back to your class. I will see you soon."

And then he disappeared.

She asked herself how he'd done it, since you couldn't Disapparate on the school grounds, but eventually gave up almost immediately.

She had just seen Harry Potter.


	4. Sleepless

Hermione was absolutely sure she had just seen Harry Potter. And that was quite a problem, since she'd watched Harry James Potter die with her own eyes.

She'd been paralysed for a moment, while she watched the tall figure turn the corner, and some seconds later she barely managed to regain enough strength to walk again.

Hermione ran to where she thought she'd seen him, but he wasn't there. No one was. She looked in every direction, and then she spotted the open window. The only people in the Central Tower courtyard were a few first-years with some free periods.

"Great," she muttered to herself.

"Granger," a girl behind her said. Hermione turned around, quite surprised, and narrowed her eyes.

"Young Greengrass. What can I do for you?" Astoria was staring at her, her arms crossed.

"Stay away from him, for a start," she scowled.

Hermione looked at her. "Excuse me?"

"You know what I'm talking about. Stay away from Draco, or I will make you regret it." She pointed her wand at her and smirked. Could a girl really get more pathetic?

Hermione stared at the wood wand, quite amused, and chuckled. "You listen to me, prat. If you ever dare to threaten me again, I'll make sure you will be the one to spend quite a few weeks in the Hospital Wing, not me. Not to mention the Dark Lord would be informed you tried to hurt me, and I'll be very much pleased to see what he'd do to you." Astoria's face turned white when she mentioned Lord Voldemort and she couldn't really blame her. She wouldn't normally bring up the Dark Lord in her favour, but she knew perfectly well that, if Astoria was to ever attempt something, Hermione would get to her first, she wouldn't wait for him.

"You want him," she hissed.

"On the contrary. And if Malfoy didn't meet me in the hall last night and I didn't solve the riddle for him, you wouldn't even have had the chance to tell him to stay away from me, now would you?" Astoria blinked at her. "Because this is what you've been doing, isn't it? And this is why, according to Theo, he's avoiding me. To be honest, you've done me nothing but a favor. Now get the hell lost, or I may forget you're Daphne's little sister."

She lingered for a second, then put the wand down and turned the corner.

The difference between Daphne and Astoria was something else. While the first one would just stand up and get what she wanted, the younger Greengrass was all looks and no brains, spoiled and used to always having everything – which caused her to be more of a prat than usual when she didn't get it.

Hermione started walking back to her class, without any desire to actually come back, for once in her life.

A few minutes later, she forced herself to smile and entered the History of Magic classroom, but, after everyone's eyes landed on her once again, she didn't even get the chance to start back taking notes that the bell rang.

She didn't want to talk to Daphne yet, so she just stormed out and prayed she'd make it to lunch before her.

Once in the Great Hall, she looked for those who had become her friends – in Blaise's case it was just bad luck – and sat next to Theo, who was talking with Blaise about the starting of the Quidditch season or something. She smiled at Theo's greeting and poured herself some pumpkin juice, while the two of them were too busy blabbering about some broomstick.

Daphne came running, followed by Malfoy, a few meters back.

"Why did you run away like that? Is something wrong with the Dark Lord?" she sat next to her.

"No, everything's fine." Daphne frowned, confused. "I was just hungry," she added with a laugh. It was pretty clear that Daphne didn't believe her, though, so she just waved it off and whispered she would tell her later.

The lunch passed quickly, even though everyone was still pretty much despairing about the Dark Lord.

Malfoy kept on ignoring her the whole time, thank goodness, but he still sat next to her in Transfiguration. None of them said a word and, luckily, they didn't have to practice, which meant they didn't have to communicate either.

At the end of the lesson, her hand hurt because of her assiduous taking notes and professor McGonagall wasn't exactly in a good mood, so she gave them extra homework.

Furthermore, she announced the first free weekend was coming in two weeks and remembered to those who were planning to go to Hogsmeade to give their name to Filch – although they were old enough to go without their parents' permission – so everything would be in order.

§§§

How two people could make so much noise was beyond her. Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode had been quarrelling for at least half an hour about something Hermione refused to remember.

She was trying to get her Potions essay about the deadly poisons done, taking deep breaths now and then so she would get enough self-control not to hex them both. She turned her head to look at them in time to see Millicent point her wand at Pansy and say, _"Aguamenti!"_

Pansy Parkinson's scream had been so loud Hermione thought she might have woken up the Giant Squid.

She rolled her eyes and took another deep breath, focusing back on her essay. Soon enough, the witch screamed again, so Hermione just took her things and went straight to the library, where no one would bother her, before she did something hasty and hexed her into oblivion.

A few minutes later, Hermione greeted Madam Pince with a big smile and went to her usual table, finally getting some peace.

She managed to finish her essay quickly enough and, since she still had some time before dinner, she decided to start the Herbology one, that was about Mandrakes and everything you could use it for.

When she was about halfway done, she saw Malfoy walk her way.

She ignored him, hoping he would just walk past her and not bother her, and got back to writing about the passages to get the Mandrake Restorative Draught done, which was used to cure those who had been petrified – not without a vague sense of déjà-vu.

Obviously, Malfoy sat in front of her.

No one said a word for a few minutes, but Hermione could feel his eyes on her.

"What do you want?" She sighed, eventually.

"I broke up with Astoria," he said, like it was the news of the century.

"And I'm supposed to care, why exactly?" She looked through the rest of the paragraph of _Mandrakes: a World_ she was consulting for the assignment.

"Because I know what happened."

"And what, in Merlin's name, happened?" She gave up on reading and looked at him.

"She's threatened you, she shouldn't have done that." He looked like he was talking about the most obvious thing ever.

"You think I'm not capable of defending myself from _her_? You shouldn't have broken up with her, so thank you very much," she rolled her eyes and sighed. "I give her twenty-four hours at most till she comes screaming at me because she thinks I've Imperioed you into dumping her or something."

He looked stunned. "And why would she think that?"

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "And I thought you were smart. Astoria Greengrass is a fifteen-year-old in the middle of her teenage crush. She'd even see Snape as a rival when it comes to you. You've just unleashed a grenade, congratulations."

"You can't be serious," he stated, like he was trying to convince himself more than her.

"If you wanted to get rid of her so badly, you should've done that earlier, or at least waited a few more days."

He snorted and brushed his hair back with his fingers, refusing to even accept he was being lectured. "Whatever. Are you done? I'm hungry."

"You know the way." She got back to her essay and finished writing down the last antidotes the Mandrake was used for, while Malfoy rolled his eyes and muttered something she didn't care enough to listen to.

Hermione charmed the books she'd used for both Potions and Herbology to go back to their places and put her parchment and ink in her bag, then got up as they started to make their way to the Great Hall, where they arrived at the same time as – sweet karma – Astoria, along with Felicity May – Ravenclaw – and Olivia Sentice – Slytherin.

The smell of roast hit her and she smiled, muttering a low, "Have fun," as she went straight to their table.

"Hermione, why is my sister looking at you like she wants to set you on fire?" The older Greengrass laughed and took a sip of water. Hermione sighed and sat in front of her, next to Theo.

"This morning, after the Dark Lord," she stopped half sentence and sighed when she saw her schoolmates looking at the two of them, then muttered a _Muffliato_. "After the Dark Lord basically crashed my History of Magic class, I met her on the first-floor hallway. She made a scene about how I'd better leave Malfoy alone, or else. I know she's your sister, but it was quite ridiculous," she scoffed.

"I can't believe she'd so that. I'll talk to her, she can't threaten you like that, even though I know you can take care of yourself," she shook her head and smiled at her apologetically.

"It's not your fault. There's no need for you to talk to her, she won't do that again. Plus, it's the last thing I need, since Malfoy dumped her earlier." She grimaced at the thought and shrugged at Daphne's disconcerted look.

"Men," she hissed, like it was an insult.

She sighed and nodded lightly, "Yeah, well, not too much that can be done now."

At the same time, Theo decided to participate in the conversation, "Have you ever thought that maybe you are the ones not to get the cues?"

Hermione and Daphne frowned and looked at him.

"Or maybe you don't." Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott looked like they were kind of having their own private chat.

Hermione shrugged once again and took a piece of roast. She didn't need to ask Draco whether she'd been right or not, when she saw the look on his face – a mix of anger and annoyance.

§§§

 _Changing the order of addends does not change the sum._

Hermione found herself thinking about the commutative property as she sat on a leather couch and watched the Slytherin common room, which consisted of people who were trying to finish last-minute homework, despairing over a spell they couldn't cast properly or, like in Theo's case, laying somewhere taking a nap, betting, or just contemplating the room around them, bored out of their minds.

But, somehow, Blaise Zabini was watching the show with her.

"So, what did the Dark Lord tell you?" he asked with nonchalance.

Hermione looked at him for a second, then ignored him.

"Like I'd tell _you_ , of all people," she snorted.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There's no way in hell you're still on our side, with that girlfriend of yours."

Blaise laughed. "Our side? And what side is that?"

"The Dark Lord's side, obviously. What, you thought I was still with them? The Order?" she scowled.

If only Zabini suspected anything, it was over. He was smart, she knew that, and she couldn't let him figure out her plan.

"Honestly? I did."

"Well, you were wrong," she scoffed.

"The thing is… I'm never wrong," he chuckled, like he was actually amused.

And then it was Hermione's turn to smile.

"There's always a first time. And please, do tell your girlfriend to show herself."

He froze. "I won't. They can't see us together," he paused, "How did you know?"

"I'm not dumb, Blaise. I spent months, with Harry and Ron, hiding from him."

§§§

"This is ridiculous."

That was Draco's third glass of Firewhisky and still hadn't calmed down. Astoria's big scene had drained him, mentally and physically.

"It's funny, really. With that indifference mask she's always wearing she looks a whole damn lot like you. Only prettier," Theo said.

Draco had to resist the impulse to curse him. "So you're over Daphne already?"

"Yeah, like a pretty face is enough to make me forget about her," he laughed, a bitter note in his voice.

"What was wrong with the two of you at lunch?" He poured himself another drink and sat in an armchair near the fireplace. The Heads' bedrooms had their benefits.

"We had a fight. I think she knows," he sighed and sat on the couch, taking a sip of Firewhisky.

"It'd be about damn time. You've been torturing yourself for years now, years she's spent dating total dickheads," he thought about her and how she had no idea of Theo's feelings.

Since, many years before, she saw him in front of his mother's corpse, a crying seven-year-old child, and helped him deal with the loss, there was never really anyone else for Theo. He'd tried dating other girls, but none of them lasted for more than a month or two.

Draco believed Daphne had actually been doing the same thing for his same own reasons, but he'd never talked with any of them about it. Not with Daphne, because she was a sister to him and he refused to interfere with her love life, nor with Theo, because it would mean digging up old memories and poking at even older scars.

He remembered, during his first year, thinking Theo was a freak when he'd told him he could see Thestrals pulling the carriages. Then he had researched it in the Library – a very Hermione Granger thing to do – and understood. That same year Theo told him about his feelings for Daphne, since Draco had been observing the both of them for weeks and saw the change in his friend's expression every time she walked into a room.

They'd better sort thing out as soon as possible though, no matter how much the scars would hurt, for, every time Daphne Greengrass introduced them to another guy, the scar she'd left on Theodore Nott bled a little more. They were either solving every unsolved problem, or he would bleed to death. And there were no spells to help that from happening.

Draco told him – in a less poetic manner, but still. The only thing Theo missed was the courage to risk.

Hours later, Draco Malfoy still couldn't manage to get some sleep, after the nightmares had woken him up. For Salazar's sake, he had even tried studying, but the sleep just wouldn't come.

He sighed and got up, with every intention of sneaking into the kitchen and stealing some food, hoping a midnight snack would help, but two voices made him stop before he could run down the stairs that led to the common room. Someone else was there.

He sat perfectly still, not making any sound, and listened, but he could only get some fragments of the conversation, since he was too far.

"…no, I've told you…"

"…because you weren't sure…"

"…never said…"

"…tried…that Ravenclaw fuckwit…"

It was Theo and Daphne, Draco realised. For the first time, he was feeling kind of guilty for eavesdropping. He believed if people were really keen on keeping their little chats to themselves, they wouldn't speak where everyone could hear them, so he usually didn't care if he occasionally eavesdropped conversations he wasn't supposed to hear. But these were his friends.

He stood up and went back to his room, confident he would spend another sleepless night.

It had only happened once, in the last months, and he had done a terrible mistake – he went to the Mudblood's room, had the excuse that Bellatrix and Voldemort were having a sleepover again, so he decided to use that and try to get some sleep.

They'd fought, for the millionth time, and they'd still managed to sleep in the same room without pointing the wand at each other's throats. Even the nightmares had gone away, that night. But he had no excuse to go to her room now, and he refused to ask her for anything. Merely thinking about her tired him up.

Draco had become a good observant, during the years, and he could tell the changes in her. She tried not to draw too much attention, sure, but she was the same person he'd praised to the Dark Lord when he made him tell who she was.

She had always been strong, Draco knew it well, but never as strong as she'd become in those previous months. As the days passed, he could see on her face the same indifference mask he saw every day in the mirror, and he couldn't even tell what side she was on anymore.

He'd been dead sure she was loyal to the Order of the Phoenix, before, but now he had no idea.

She could have bloody well pretended not to know about any other base after the first three or four, she could have pretended not to know their names and maybe tried to save them, getting herself killed in the process. He knew the Gryffindors well enough to know they would call it an honourable death and he knew her well enough to know she would die for her friends.

But then, why help the Dark Lord? Draco still couldn't find an answer.

§§§

He got back to ignoring her.

After his sleepless night, the last thing Draco Malfoy needed was hearing her voice first thing in the morning.

The damn sleep only arrived when the first light of dawn had started lightening up the lake, so he decided to try that dark brown thing Muggles called coffee at breakfast.

Its taste only got a slight bit better if you added sugar. It wasn't great, but he'd drank nastier things in his life and he was glad to find that – a whole cup and some minutes trying to keep his eyes open later – it was actually helping him to stay awake. In fact, he was as good as after a good night's sleep, although he did feel a little tired physically.

He'd been among the first ones to get into the Great Hall, since he wanted to be alone for a while, and then a tired Theo sat next to him, almost dragged there by a hot-tempered Blaise, which was definitely the oddest thing he saw that morning. Blaise was never hot-tempered. He was the calm one, never getting his emotions in the way and stopping _them_ from doing stupid shit they would regret.

As the tables crowded up and the coffee made Theo lighten up, they started talking about the incoming Quidditch season and he almost didn't notice the way Blaise glared at Luna Lovegood when she walked past them.

He diverted his attention away from sport for a few seconds and asked himself why Blaise had decided to scowl at none other than Looney Lovegood, and why she smiled at him regardless.

He was distracted by Daphne and Granger entering the Great Hall, muttering about Salazar knew what, and, for a second, Draco hated his long-time friend for the changes in Granger's uniform.

Her short skirt and unbuttoned shirt, enough to show some cleavage without being vulgar, along with the loose Slytherin tie, were the last thing he needed. He was used to a good half of the girls in Hogwarts wearing uniforms that were two sizes smaller than they needed to be, with way too short skirts and tight, unbuttoned shirts, but Hermione damn Granger wasn't most girls.

Annoyed, he poured himself some more coffee and grunted when he realised he'd forgotten to add sugar. He adjusted his beverage to make it at least drinkable, then focused on Theo again.

"What?" he blurted when he noticed he'd asked him something.

"I asked you what broom you're getting. Where's your head?"

"The Firebolt," he answered, since he had destroyed his Nimbus 2001 by mistake.

Despite practice was starting in two weeks – although there was no proper Quidditch season, since there were no more Houses – he still hadn't told his father to mail him the broomstick. He had no desire to speak to him in any way, so he would either have to mail Broomstix or go to Diagon Alley himself to get the broom. He knew Snape wouldn't mind.

Draco stupidly asked himself if Granger had spent the night sleepless, but he quickly shook thought away and grabbed a toast. Things were getting out of hand.

He had hated her for Transfiguring him into a bloody ferret in front of the whole class, but arguing with her always made him feel… lightweight, or something.

Then it had ended, of course, and he'd haughtily pouted his day away because he was a Malfoy and he had a reputation to keep up. Plus, he was already planning his revenge and he was merely waiting for the right moment.

And then there was Astoria, with her immature, jealous bitching. Having some fun with Daphne's little sister had been nice, because she didn't use to make a scene every other day, unlike Pansy. But then she'd decided to take her example and ruin that unlabelled thing they had.

When he'd heard her say he should've stayed away from Granger – which he would gladly do, if it wasn't for the Dark Lord – he got a déjà-vu and remembered why he had dumped Pansy in the first place.

He had to find someone to release the tension with, or he would explode. The only thing he wanted to do was fight, scream and let off steam till he got voiceless. But the thing was, he could only do that with Granger.


	5. Haunting

Hermione's morning had been absolutely calm and quiet, nothing was going wrong – for once – and she was enjoying her breakfast in total peace. Malfoy was bitching about something she didn't understand to Theo, and Daphne was chatting with Pansy. She hadn't felt this good in the morning for a while. But that was the first sign, really. She should have known there was no peace in Hogwarts.

When Snape approached their table and stopped right in front of her, half the people in the Great Hall hushed. "Miss Granger, my office. Now," he said, with his blank voice.

Hermione had almost choked on her own saliva when she figured the only reason he would want to see her was the Dark Lord. She cleared her throat and followed him out, without a word. The road to the Headmaster's office was long and quiet.

Once they both entered the circular room, the only sound was Phineas Nigellus Black acknowledging her with a, "You again?" which she ignored. Hermione sat down, forcing herself not to look at Dumbledore's painting.

"I suppose you know why you're here?" Snape asked.

"What are the new orders?" She went straight to the point and decided she wouldn't stay in that office a minute more than necessary.

"The Dark Lord caught wind there's a base of the Order in muggle London, protected by a Fidelius Charm. Albus Dumbledore was the Secret Keeper, I'm sure you know how the charm works and what happened when he died."

Hermione stopped herself from flinching and took a deep breath. She couldn't speak of Grimmauld Place unless they had captured someone crucial. "What are you implying?" she asked, trying to gain more time to think.

"That you are now a Secret Keeper," he spelled very slowly. "Tell me where it is."

"Can't you just ask Dumbledore?"

"You think I didn't try?" the disgust in his voice was clear.

She knew his painting was watching her. She could feel it on her skin. She had to answer, or she'd burn months of work. But there was something wrong about it. Who could have they taken that knew about the Fidelius Charm? Moody, Mundungus, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, Harry and Ron were dead. She wasn't sure Andromeda Tonks knew about it and, if they had captured and tortured one of the Weasleys, she was pretty sure Ginny would have made it her priority to let her know she considered her responsible.

Luna didn't know and she strongly doubted Blaise knew. Hagrid? No, he had run away with the Giants. McGonagall knew, but she was dead sure she would have never told the Death Eaters anything. Which meant Snape had to be testing her.

"It's the Black's family mansion. Harry inherited it from Sirius," she said. She avoided telling him the precise address, since she was – obviously – a secret keeper, but that seemed to be enough for him.

Snape's eyes seemed to smile, for some odd reason, and she heard Phineas Nigellus mutter something about how his family's secrets were being spilled to everyone.

"May I go now? I don't want to miss class."

Snape nodded absentmindedly, so she just grabbed her bag and left the office. Instead of running down the stairs, when she closed the door she stopped right there and listened.

"I told you, Albus. You precious Mudblood is a traitor. It's not like she had a choice, I'll give you that, but I suppose it's all part of your Gryffindor pride," Snape scorned. Was Dumbledore doubting her loyalty to the Dark Lord? Was that it?

"Or, maybe, she just knows you're loyal to me. And, please, do refrain from using such epithet in my presence," the portrait answered.

What the hell did that mean? Snape was a double agent?

"And not use it in her favour? The girl's more Slytherin than you think. You're wrong, Albus, you just don't want to admit it."

"She can't be that changed, Severus. This is radical."

"I'll bring your painting with me next time she's on a mission so you can see for yourself," he sighed, "You always see the good in everyone, now you're dead because of it."

"You're also a part of the Order because of it."

Hermione almost fell down the stairs. She quickly left and headed to the dungeons, where she was supposed to meet Theo after breakfast, since Professor Vector was ill and the Advanced Arithmancy class had been cancelled. She had heard enough.

Albus Dumbledore had been testing her all along. Severus Snape was loyal to the Order of the Phoenix and knew about Grimmauld Place without her telling him. He had killed Dumbledore, he couldn't actually be loyal to him – she reasoned. But, at the same time, Dumbledore was prone to sacrifice himself, Harry had been a living proof of that.

Her head was a labyrinth of thoughts as she headed back to the common room, and then she really did believe she had gone insane. She believed it, because that was Harry, standing there. It was his face, looking at her with that betrayed eyes of his. Hermione gasped and her sight became blurry. When she tried to take a step forward, though, he disappeared. She ran to the point she'd seen him, but there was nothing there, or maybe there never was.

"I am just tired," she repeated to herself, "I am not crazy."

She was really not, it was just the tiredness caused by her sleepless night. The key was believing it. Hermione leaned on the wall for support and took a few deep breaths, before walking back to the common room.

In the dungeons, only lighted up by a few torches now and then, Hermione found Theo with his head in his hands, laid on a couch under the portrait of Salazar Slytherin.

"Daphne told me," she said and sat on the chess table in front of his sofa.

"And what do you think about it?" he looked at her.

She took a deep breath. "I think you need to talk about it and figure things out. This is no good for any of you."

Theo half laughed half snorted. "You and Draco been shaking hands on it or what?"

"What do you mean?" she frowned. Shaking hands on what?

"He told me the same thing, yesterday. He was the one to convince me to do it."

"I didn't know. What can I do?" seeing the funny, lazy and sometimes jerky Theo like that only made her sad. And, after the last twenty minutes, she could barely stand it.

He was the only one, besides Daphne, who hadn't given a damn about her blood from the very beginning and, as much as she didn't care about blood status either, it was nice to know that someone in his position, with a Death Eater father, could disregard blood prejudice so easily when the act wasn't necessary to stay alive.

"Nothing, unless you can get into her head. But thanks," he smiled and an idea popped into her mind.

"What if I could get _you_ into her head? Meet me in my room tonight, after dinner."

"What are you planning?" He asked, and eyed her suspiciously.

"You'll see," she smirked.

§§§

The waiting was killing him. Draco just _had_ to know why Snape wanted to see Granger, what the Dark Lord's plans were and why he didn't want to see him as well.

Having the first two hours free, he had decided to borrow Blaise's broom and have a round on the Quidditch pitch, chasing some Snitches to release the tension. He was standing at the entrance of the Ancient Runes classroom now, waiting for her. His excuse would be the double Transfiguration they had together mext.

Shortly after the bell rang, he saw Granger walk past him in the hall, not noticing him, so he ran up to her, grabbed her arm and turned both of them around.

"What are you doing? Let go of me!" she hissed, but he ignored her and walked her to an empty classroom.

"What did he tell you?" he snapped, letting her go.

"Who are you talking about?" she grimaced and rubbed her arm.

"Snape. What did he tell you?" he repeated, starting to lose his patience.

"He only needed to locate an operative base, chill," she scowled, "I would have told you in Transfiguration, there was no need to be so dramatic about it."

"Really?" his voice was full of sarcasm.

"Really. What's wrong with you?" Granger frowned and took a step back.

"What were you and Daphne mumbling about, this morning?" he changed the subject, trying to calm down.

"Girl talk," she stated, but he knew she was lying. He looked for the signs, but there was nothing. If he didn't know better, he would have fallen for it. She was looking straight into his eyes, not glancing away, and her voice was calm as ever. He hated it. "We're late for class. Or do you have more interrogation to do?"

"We're not going to be late." he rolled his eyes and opened the door, waiting for her to get out and closing it back behind him.

"The Transfiguration class is on the ground floor, this is the sixth floor and the stairs like changing. We already are late," she was shaking her head and storming to the nearest staircase. Draco sighed and followed her. Of course, they got to Transfiguration last, and he earned himself a glare from both Granger and McGonagall.

§§§

Hermione heard a knock on the door and looked at the muggle alarm she had on her desk.

It was nine o'clock sharp, so that was Theo for sure. Never, _ever_ , would she live enough to see Daphne Greengrass be on time. She opened the door and smiled at him.

"Just so you know, I'm not really down for dark magic, regardless of my oh-so-light background," was the first thing he said.

Hermione blinked a few times and shook her head. "What the hell, Theo."

"Then what?"

She rolled her eyes and invited him to come in, ignoring his question. "Give me your wand," she said and stretched her arm. Theo looked like he'd figured out there was something wrong. "Why?"

"Because I put up with her every day and I barely manage not to hex her sometimes, so I'm not having my room destroyed by the two of you."

He sighed and gave her his wand. Theo knew Daphne well enough to know she was right. Hermione just smiled and opened the door again when she heard a loud knocking, surprised her friend was actually – kind of – on time.

She didn't give her enough time to look into the room and asked, "Hi, will you lend me your wand for a second? I can't find mine." Daphne frowned but handed it to her nonetheless.

Hermione smiled again and opened the door wider so she could get in, then admired both pair of eyes landing on her, disconcerted.

"I'll be back tomorrow morning," she explained. "You're welcome."

Hermione left the room and locked the door so they couldn't open it without magic, then made her way to the common room.

"Granger, how come you dignify us with your presence?" Pansy Parkinson asked, surprisingly nice at any time of the day.

"For the same reason you insist on imposing yours on us, I guess." She sat next to Malfoy on a couch and stole a Chocolate Frog from him, with a slight groan from him in response.

She crossed her legs and took a bite from it, as Blaise chuckled, trying to cover it with a cough. A Slytherin boy sitting nearby only smiled.

"You're hilarious," Pansy smiled such a fake smile she had a feeling it would crack her face.

"Can't say the same for you," she murmured and looked at the card she'd got with the chocolate. The Slytherin boy she didn't recognize laughed at that, and Draco smirked.

"Granger, he's Miles Bletchley and she," he nodded at a black-haired girl sitting next to him, "Is his girlfriend, Tracey Davis."

"Nice to meet you both," she smiled in response. If anything, they seemed nice.

"It's our pleasure," the girl, Tracy, answered and smiled back.

A few hours later, when everyone but her retired to their rooms to get some sleep, Hermione just stared at the door of her bedroom, mentally cursing herself. She should have locked them up somewhere she wasn't supposed to sleep in.

Now, she refused to share the room with Pansy for the night and there was no way she was sleeping with the boys in Theo's room. Realizing she was left with little to no choice, she groaned and turned around, then knocked on the door in front of her own.

A few seconds later, Draco Malfoy opened the door, with only his sweatpants on, looking quite dazzled.

"May I help you?" he managed to say.

She cleared her throat and looked away. "I have locked up Daphne and Theo in my room a few hours ago, and I didn't really think of the consequences. The door's still intact, but I think they might be… you know. Can I stay here tonight?"

Her cheeks were on fire.

"Sure." He opened the door to for her and she walked into the room. "I owe you, after all the times Bellatrix… you know."

The atmosphere was awkward. To say the least. So awkward, in fact, that Hermione was taking into serious consideration asking Pansy if she could stay in their room for the night.

"Do you want something to sleep in?" he asked, nodding at her uniform.

Hermione looked at herself too and sighed. Bloody Daphne Greengrass and her bloody spell-proof uniform. She nodded without looking at him and watched as he turned around a took a dress shirt form his closet, then handed to her. Hermione guessed Draco Malfoy didn't really own t-shirts, like any other normal person would.

She thanked him and locked herself in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, she put the shirt on the sink, with a faint desire of seeing the earth crack and pull her down. The Heads' bedrooms were outrageously big, that's for sure, but they were also full of furniture and there was no space to Transfigure a pillow into another bed like they did at the Manor and the couch was too small for someone to sleep on it.

She tried not to look at herself in the mirror and just put the dress shirt on, folding her clothes and putting them on Malfoy's desk, as she walked out of the bathroom, along with her wand, Theo's and Daphne's.

He was laying on his stomach with an arm under his head and his body was covered by the blankets only from the waist down. Hermione ignored the sight of him, half naked, got into the bed and pulled the blankets up to her neck.

"Granger, you do know it's not the first time we sleep together, right?" he mumbled.

"I thought you were asleep. And please, don't make this more embarrassing than it already is." She put a hand on her forehead and sighed.

He laughed at that. "It'll never be more embarrassing than the first time I asked you for political asylum."

Hermione thought about that for a second. That _had_ been odd. "Perhaps for you."

Draco turned around to face her, with a weird look. "Do you still have those dreams?"

She knew what he was talking about. There had been more than a few times she had woken up screaming in the middle of the night, when they were at the Manor, scaring the life out of him – especially the first time. "I didn't catch any sleep last night," she confessed.

They spent a few minutes in silence, both looking at the stone ceiling.

"Neither have I," he finally whispered.

She turned towards him, "Why?"

"Nightmares, at first. Then I just couldn't fall asleep," he shrugged.

"Me too," she confessed. Hermione couldn't tell who was the first one to fall asleep, but the nightmares didn't abandon her that night either.

She dreamt about her parents. Voldemort was torturing them to find out where she was. She had run away with the Order. It was her fault they were suffering. Mr and Mrs Granger had no idea who she was though, they still believed they were Mr and Mrs Murphy, living in their apartment in Sydney. It was all her fault. She should have saved them.

She woke up with a gasp, a scream barely escaping her lips, while tears she didn't realize she was spilling ran down her cheeks. Draco didn't take long to wake up figure out what was happening, and mere moments later he was grabbing her shoulders, shaking her awake.

"Granger, it was just a dream," he kept repeating. Hermione slowly turned to face him. When he realized she was crying, he just dried the tears that kept on falling and frowned. "It wasn't real." He gently pushed her back down, grabbed the blankets and covered them both, then took his wand and lighted up all the candles in the room. The dark of the night made it worse for both of them.

Next morning, Hermione was a wreak. The candles were now completely melted, she had dry tears on her face, her hair was a mess and one of Draco's hands was on her upper forearm, grabbing it. She sat down in the bed, trying to see the time on the clock, but she woke him up in the process. Luckily, it was just ten to seven. They still had some time before breakfast.

"How are you feeling?" his morning voice asked.

"Better, thanks. Have you managed to get some sleep?" She didn't have any words to tell him how grateful she was for managing to calm her down. If she had been in her room, she wouldn't have fallen back asleep at all, which would lead to another sleepless night – again.

Draco just nodded and then everything was silent again.

"I'm sorry for what happened. For waking you up," she whispered, mortified.

He turned around to look at her. "Don't," he just said and she could tell he was dead serious. He knew what it meant too, waking up in the middle of the night because the nightmares. She nodded and the atmosphere in the room felt lighter. "So, you think Daphne and Theo managed cleared _anything_ up?" he murmured, after a while.

"I hope so," she sighed, "I didn't consider asking Pansy Parkinson for political asylum so they could just scowl and pout at each other all night."

"I can't believe you really took that into consideration," he laughed and she stared at him, laughing with her and not _at_ her, without his usual mask on. Then she lightly punched him.

"It's not funny!" She protested, but smiled too. "Do you think we should go wake them up?"

"Unless you want them to have another round at it before breakfast. And that's if they can still move," he smirked at her horrified face.

"You don't think they'd really do that, don't you?"

"No, I think they've already done that," he said, and stood up from the bed. "Get changed, I'll have a shower. And don't go without me," he added.

Hermione nodded and stretched, following his bare back with her gaze. When he was finally in the bathroom and she heard the water run in the shower, she got up too and dressed, taking care of her impossible hair and casting a quick _Scurgify_ on her uniform, hoping at least _that_ would stick. She noticed Draco's Potions textbook was on the desk as well, so she took it and looked for the chapter about the Moonstone, sitting back on the bed.

A few minutes later, Malfoy got out of the bathroom only wearing a towel around his waist. "I can't believe you're really studying this early," he frowned, then took his uniform and looked at her.

"Revising," she corrected him.

He shook his head, bewildered. "Give me a minute and then we can go."

Hermione nodded absentmindedly and focused back on the book.

When they finally got in front of her door, she took a deep breath and unlocked it.

Hermione didn't quite know what to expect, but the chaos wasn't on the list. There were clothes everywhere, pieces of parchment that were once on the desk now rested on the floor and in between the messy sheets were lying Daphne and Theo. She didn't want to believe it.

Draco, on the other hand, believed Hermione was about to start screaming. Her room was a hot mess and the two lovebirds had definitely been having some fun. He cleared his throat and, when he saw none of them was giving any sign of waking up, he only smirked and knocked loudly on the door. The first to acknowledge them was Daphne, who looked at them and gasped.

She kicked Theo under the sheets and he woke up with a groan, asking what was wrong.

"I think Hermione's about to faint," Daphne said.

And it kind of looked like it. She really wasn't used to all that mess. It only took that one phrase to completely wake up Theo.

"You have ten minutes to get dress and get the hell out of my room," Hermione's voice was surprisingly calm.

Draco was sure she was going to burn the sheets.

The girl put both their wands on a little table near the door and closed it, walking towards the common room. He tried not to laugh and followed her.

"Come on, you're not angry, are you?" he asked.

"I'm not angry," she stated calmly, but it sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

"You knew it would happen."

"No, I didn't. I've told them to sort things out, not to have sex in my bed!" She scowled and Draco smirked.

"Make-up sex is the best way to sort things out."

Hermione blushed and looked away, sitting on a couch in front of the main fireplace. "Can you go take my bag, please? It's near the armchair, I don't think I could handle getting in there right now."

Draco suppressed a laugh and turned around. By the time he made it to her bedroom, Theo and Daphne were leaving. "Good morning again," he greeted them as Theo kept the door open for him with a grimace. As they left without a work, he quickly retrieved Granger's bag and got back to the common room. She wasn't on the couch anymore, though, but standing in front of the main fireplace, arguing with none other than Ginny Weasley.

"So you're shagging Malfoy, now," the latter was saying, but it sounding more like a question than anything. Draco frowned. He wasn't shagging anyone.

Granger was clearly outraged. "Excuse _you_? I'm not telling you again, Ginny. This was my decision and you need to accept that."

"I don't need to accept anything!" Weaselette scoffed.

"What's going on?" He asked, stopping behind Granger.

"Nothing. Let's go, I'm hungry," she said, took her bag from him and stepped out of the common room.

He glared at Ginny Weasley and pointed his wand at her. "This is the last time you talk to her that way, I'm warning you."


	6. The key

Two weeks had passed since her confrontation with Ginny and neither of them spoke to the other again. After what had happened in Draco's room, the two of them had got closer, perhaps due to that secret they shared, and one night she'd been woken up by his loud knocking.

Hermione didn't need to ask what was going on when she'd looked at him. His usual calm expression was twisted into a hard one and his grey eyes were darker than usual. Hermione had let him come in and both of them got back to sleep – or, at least, tried to – and decided, the next morning, they would exchange a key to each other's rooms so they wouldn't wake up the entire dungeon in the middle of the night, knocking. The Heads' room were charmed so only their owners could open it from the outside unless you had a key, so that was the only option.

When, a few days later, Hermione woke up from another nightmare terrified, she didn't hesitate. She took the key from her night table and went straight to his room. She had slipped into his bed, careful not to wake him up, but she learned he was a light sleeper. He had dried up her tears and brushed her hair to sleep, act that he learned helped calm her down.

It was almost absurd how two people who had done nothing but fight for years got so close because of the fears that kept resurfacing every night.

After a week or so, Hermione found she was hating Ginny Weasley with her whole self. The night before she had forgotten her key in Draco's room and he gave it back during Transfiguration. She had put it in her bag and, when she looked for it so she could put it back in its place, she only found a little piece of parchment in its place.

 _Remember the A.D. reunions? If you want it back, come tonight._

 _G.W._

And now here she was, heading to the Room of Requirement, while the staircases seemed to only enjoy moving when she was in a hurry. Once she got to the seventh floor, she only hesitated for a few seconds before knocking on the giant door that appeared.

She walked into the Gryffindor common room that night. Ginny, Luna and Neville, plus Seamus Finnigan and Hannah Abbott were sitting on the sofas.

Hermione looked around and then turned to face Ginny. "Creative much? Don't think I don't know what you want, Ginny. I'll give you three answers, then I want my key back." She sat in an armchair and crossed her legs beneath her.

"Only three?" Neville frowned.

Hermione's eyes wandered around the familiar room. "I've been thinking about it and three is the number of things you need to know if you want to win the war," she coldly smiled and her eye caught the only thing that was out of place. "Zabini, get out of there. If you want to vanish, just say the word, but I'm not sharing the merit with that Cabinet."

The boy got out and snorted, "Merlin, how do you do that?"

"You keep on forgetting, don't you? Why didn't you tell them I already know about you?" She asked, narrowing her eyes. Something wasn't right with him. "Actually, don't tell me," Hermione reconsidered. "I don't care and I certainly don't have time." Blaise rolled his eyes and sat next to his girlfriend. "So, three answers with the truthfulness of Veritaserum."

"How can we be sure?" Seamus asked.

"I want my key back," Hermione stated as if weren't obvious.

"What does it open?" Ginny inquired and she landed her eyes on her as she raised the bronze key.

"Is this your first question? I can assure you, the answer is way less satisfying than you hope it is." Except, there was no way she'd tell them about her nightmares. As a Death Eater, she was supposed to adore the Dark Lord, if anything.

"Yes, it's my first question."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy's bedroom door," she smirked, aware of how it looked. Ginny already thought they were shagging – as she had so elegantly put it. "The Heads' rooms have their own magic and you can only unlock them if you're the owner or if you have the key. We can go down and check, if you don't believe me."

"No, thank you. Why did you join them?" Ginny nodded at the black Mark on her arm.

"Ron said his name," she sighed, remembering the day. "With the taboo, the Snatchers popped up and we couldn't find a way out, so they took us to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix called the Dark Lord and he killed Harry right away. Then he saw me and asked Draco who I was. He told him, he couldn't lie, but the Dark Lord was surprised by the fact I was such a great witch despite my blood, so he decided I would be useful in his pretty little war. That way I could use my magic for the right reasons, as a Death Eater. He did give me a choice, though: take the Mark and live, or give Ron to Bellatrix and die." They all visibly tensed up. Some looked away, other kept their eyes straight on her. "So I condemned Ron to a quick, painless death."

Hermione cleared her throat and looked up at Ginny.

"Why didn't you leave?" she just asked.

That took her by surprise. "Is this your last question?" Ginny nodded. "Well, it doesn't work like that. My mind is forever linked to his. He'd know where I am as soon as he realized I left in the first place. Not to mention what would come after."

"What would that be?" Luna asked, her voice as dreamy as usual. She looked completely unbothered by everything she'd said.

"Do you think he gives a prize to every Death Eater who to disobeys an order, Luna?"

"Do you mean the Cruciatus Curse?"

"Hell, sometimes I wish it was the Cruciatus," she murmured. Neville frowned but motioned for her to continue, although visibly uncomfortable. "Has Harry ever told you why Dumbledore was so weak, the night Snape killed him?" When Ginny nodded again, she continued, "The damn potion is like his favorite toy. It feels like going mad, only worse. Whatever can happen to those you love, whether they're dead or alive, you see it. It's not like hallucinations or daydreaming, because deep down you know those are not real. But you drink that potion and you don't even distinguish the dead from the living anymore, you just know it's real."

The room was dead silent. Hermione took a deep breath and stretched her arm towards Ginny. "I'd like to have my key back, if you don't mind."

Ginny handed it back to her and, once she had it again, she put it in her pocket.

"Why did you do this? You could have had a copy done."

"Actually, I couldn't. This is the only copy there is, and the rooms have their magic, remember? It would be kind of pointless if anyone could get a copy of the keys." Hermione shook her head and watched every person in the room. "Who's the Order's spy among the Death Eaters, by the way? It sure as hell isn't me. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, though, it _was_ Dumbledore's doing. Knowing this much would have saved you a lot of trouble, so well done. Let me know when you capture Bellatrix," she laughed, unamused.

"Why would we capture her?" Luna asked softly.

Hermione frowned. "Oh, so you wanted to try holding Snape hostage, then? What, you think the Dark Lord simply wanders around, yelling his plans out for everyone to hear?"

She got up and left the room before anyone could stop her, or say anything more. Hermione closed the door of the Room of Requirement behind her and rushed to the dungeons. Her day was becoming absurd.

She managed to get to her room without being spotted past curfew by Filch and avoid Peeves.

Once she opened her bedroom door, she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting on her bed with his elbows resting on his knees.

"What happened?" She was almost afraid to ask. She closed the door and sat near him.

"Where were you?" He glanced at her. He looked… upset. Was it possible?

"It's a long story," she sighed and took her pajamas, heading to the bathroom. Except that, obviously, you couldn't just impose a decision on a Malfoy, hoping he'd respect it, because he'll make sure to show you his dismay. He followed her to the bathroom – unbelievable! – and closed the door behind him, staring at her. "I have time."

She rolled her eyes, "Can you at least turn around?" He did it. "Ginny took my key, this morning, in class. I got it back."

"I guess she didn't hand it over for free," he murmured.

"No, she wanted answers." When she saw he was about to turn around, she covered her breast with the top piece of the pajamas. "Don't turn around!"

"Sorry. Well, what did she ask?" He sounded quite impatient.

"Nothing relevant."

"So did she give you back the key?" He looked at her in a way Hermione couldn't decipher.

"Yes, sorry I lost it, I won't let it happen again." She was suddenly feeling guilty about it.

"It's fine," he simply said and made a move to leave, but Hermione took his hand, stopping him.

"Stay."

He just nodded, when a loud knocking made them both jump. Hermione cleared her throat and opened the door. Snape was waiting for her, holding a small parchment.

"This came for you from the Dark Lord," he looked at Draco on her bed and made a face, "I want the answer by tomorrow morning."

"Of course," she murmured, but he was already long gone.

As she closed the door, she opened the parchment, shaking, and read the black words on it.

"Granger?" he heard Draco ask, but she couldn't find the voice to answer, still staring at the few lined the Lord had written instead.

Draco stood up and reached her, stopping right behind her so he could read the message. He sighed, after he finished, and stroke her shoulders. "You can say no."

She shook her head and a sob broke from her lips. "Will you go with me?"

He nodded.

§§§

Draco had to dress like a Muggle, with a plain black t-shirt and jeans she had Transfigured for him, and was now waiting for Granger in the common room. She had thrown the basics in her charmed bag, while Draco only took his wand with him.

"We can go," she murmured approaching him.

As they crossed the common room, basically everyone was looking at them. Besides being _them_ , they were the only ones not wearing the school uniform or robes, so the attention was expected.

"Wait a second, where are you two going dressed like that?" Daphne asked, appearing in front of them.

"New orders," he just answered and rested an arm on Granger's shoulder. Everyone thought they were off to kill someone anyway, might as well put up a little show.

"Nothing to worry about," she added, "It'll be easy."

Plus, he had seen Ginny Weasley getting closer and, apparently, so had Hermione. Her voice was a little louder, but not enough to sound fake.

He got what crossed her mind and refrained from smirking, "Yeah, a shame he wants them alive."

Daphne chuckled, looking at his arm around her, then at the little audience they had, and hugged her, while Theo only wished them good luck. She eyed Ginny, the little snake, and smiled, "Have fun!"

Hermione visibly held back a laugh, and Draco finally looked at the Weaslette with a smirk. "Oh, we most certainly will."

When they were out of the dungeons, he just laughed and put his arm down.

"Quite a scene, huh? Thanks for distracting me, I needed it."

"Nothing will happen to them, Granger," he reasoned. "He can't afford to lose you."

Dumbledore was noticeably surprised to see them together when they entered Snape's office. Clearly, the new Headmaster hadn't spilled all the details.

"I suppose the two of you being here together means no?" He half asked. Still, he paid no more attention to them than he would to Hermione's raised hand in one of his classes.

"Actually, it's a yes. But I won't leave this castle without him."

"And does the Dark Lord know about this?"

"The Dark Lord ordered me to help her and that's exactly what I'm doing," Draco answered. Snape finally looked at them. "We need to Floo to the Australian Ministry and we can only do that from here."

"Go, then. And don't be away more than necessary." He got back to his writing and waved them away. Looking at Dumbledore's portrait for the last time, the thought of Blaise Zabini crossed Hermione's mind. She needed to tell Draco.

Once out of the Floo, in Australia, Hermione and Draco left the Ministry with no problems. Draco, on the other hand, had been wary during the whole time, looking around suspiciously and making her nervous as well, although she knew there was absolutely no need to be. After they finally found an alley they could Disapparate from, Hermione walked to the front door of the building she knew her parents lived in, took the lift – with some complaining from Draco's side – and stopped at the sixth floor.

She knocked and her mother opened the door.

§§§

Merely a month later, snow fell on Hogwarts. They had managed to return just in time to meet the new Dark Arts professor, since they hadn't been able to attend that class up to that point because no one wanted the job.

After hearing the first "Hem, hem," Hermione hoped with every cell of her body that Dolores Umbridge was not there. She had soon learnt that class was entirely formed by Gryffindor and Slytherin seventh-years. Professor Umbridge didn't quite seem to understand her role in the war, as she continued to treat her with the same sweet disgust as ever.

Her mood had very much improved since they were back from Australia, though, since her parents decided to stay there, because they couldn't just, "Drop everything and move back to London from day to night." They would meet the Dark Lord another time, they said.

Hermione suspected they were doing that for her, to protect her from any repercussion over them. Plus, Muggles history of wars meant to "preserve the purity of the race," and they weren't quite fond of any of them.

On Friday afternoon, Daphne Greengrass had earned the first detention ever, and Professor Umbridge's detentions were all but nice. Everyone would have preferred to help professor Lockhart answer his fans, or plant Mandrakes for professor Sprout, or even reorganize Snape's ingredients room.

However, after Dolores Umbridge spotted Pansy and Daphne chatting while they were supposed to silently read the chapters assigned, the latter came back in the common room with her hand bleeding and an open scar that said, "I mustn't speak during class." No one understood why Pansy Parkinson didn't even get a scolding about it.

The moment Hermione saw Daphne cry – Daphne, the only one who had stood by her side and befriended her when she'd become a Death Eater, with no regards to her blood – she decided she had to do something about it. So, as she was leaving for dinner with Theo and Draco, Hermione let a note fall on Ginny's lap.

 _D.A. tonight. Burn this._

 _H._

And so that night the Room of Requirement was the Gryffindor common room again, with Ginny and Neville waiting for her inside.

"I'll make this quick," she started, "If only a word about this gets out of here, I will find you, and it won't be nice. Do you understand?"

Ginny and Neville looked at one another and nodded.

"What is this about?"

"Umbridge. You may not care, but Daphne's my friend, and having that woman out of here will be a win for everyone. You in?"

"Depends," Neville leaned forward.

"You will only have to confirm she's on your side, if needed, nothing more. You're not risking your life, your rebellion was never a secret, but, if anything goes wrong, Blaise and Luna have to stay out of this, or they will find out I helped them and I'm not getting punished for you. I'll deal with the rest."

The two of them looked at each other, then at Ginny's hand, that was basically still an open wound.

"We're in."

Hermione smirked – probably Malfoy's influence – and left, heading to Snape's office, where she entered without even knocking. The Headmaster was studying an oddly colored vile and raised his eyes as soon as she stepped into the room.

"Knocking is a sign of civility even among Muggles, I'm sure."

"Dolores Umbridge needs to leave." She closed the door behind her and sat in an armchair near the desk.

"And how do you plan on getting that done? I'm not disobeying an order for your whims." He merely looked at her and stared back at his vile.

"It's not a whim!" She burst. "The witch does nothing but create more and more troubles and the Ministry is under the Dark Lord's control, we don't need her here."

"So?" He asked, unimpressed.

"So I could casually hint that she works for the Order and, with such an accusation, she wouldn't live long enough to even know who did it."

Severus Snape finally put the vile down and looked at her. "Dolores Umbridge hated Harry Potter, their past isn't obscure to the Dark Lord."

Hermione smiled, "Still, you weren't a fan of Harry's yourself, nonetheless you are a member of the Order."

Snape raised his eyebrows.

"Severus, I told you she knew. She wouldn't have sold us out otherwise," Dumbledore said from his portrait.

"On the contrary. I eavesdropped, or else I would have never imagined he was a spy. Thank you very much, by the way, it's quite the leverage." She turned back to the Headmaster, "So, you'll say you saw them leave the Room of Requirement with me, or I will tell him your little secret. I'd kill two birds with one stone."

She leaned into the armchair and ignored Snape's comment on threatening the Headmaster.

"How will you justify us being on the seventh floor at 10 pm?"

Hermione shrugged, "The stairs like to move."

She put up her left sleeve and touched the Mark with her wand. The burning was immediate. The Dark Lord arrived mere moments later.

"I am sorry to bother you, my Lord, but I have some important news for you."

Hermione saw his red eyes brighten up at her words and refrained herself from smiling.

"Continue, Hermione."

"I met the Headmaster met by chance in the hallways, while I was coming here to discuss some Heads business, but the stairs like to move and we ended up on the seventh floor, where we saw Professor Umbridge."

"And?" He sat in the other armchair and stared at her.

"Well, she was leaving the Room of Requirement with Ginevra Weasley and Neville Longbottom, among others. It was the same group that formed Dumbledore's Army in fifth year, so I thought it was a little suspicious. They were talking about a spell, but I've never read of it anywhere."

Anger made its way on the Dark Lord's features and that was the moment Hermione knew she'd won. Now the hard time was going to be compelling him into not killing the students. She looked at Snape and hoped he'd do his part.

"Severus, why were you in the hallways this late?" The Dark Lord asked and turned to look at him.

"Peeves was planning on filling up the Great Hall ceiling with charmed buckets that would have us all soaked up tomorrow morning, I was looking for the Bloody Baron. As I am sure you remember, my Lord, he's the only one who has a hold on Peeves."

"Of course, that little poltergeist," he murmured, and there was a sort of amused look on his face.

"If I may, my Lord, I don't think it would be wise to kill the students involved in this. Their behavior is well known, and I wouldn't worry too much about some children, they are nothing without Harry Potter. A good punishment, that's what they need." Snape was emotionless, as usual. Of course, he was thrilled at the mere idea of punishing Ginny and Neville, and his voice was giving away a certain amusement.

"What kind of punishment?"

"I seem to understand Professor Sprout has a little issue with some carnivore slugs and I happen to have finished my reserve of desiccated slobber. I think that will be enough to make sure they won't try anything again."

The Dark Lord nodded absently, as if he didn't really care what happened to the students, as long as he had a traitor in his hands.

"Dolores Umbridge has deeply disappointed me," he sighed, not sounding anywhere near hurt, "Bellatrix will deal with her."

"Will you kill her, my Lord?" Hermione asked, trying not to sound too eager. Just to make sure.

"That I can assure you. Thank you, my dear, once again you have proven yourself an excellent Death Eater. My bests to Mr Malfoy as well."

As Hermione nodded, feeling quite proud of herself, the Dark Lord stood up and disappeared without a word more.

Finally, she let a chuckle slip through her lips. It had been ridiculously easier than expected. She wondered for a brief second what Umbridge could have possibly done to make the Dark Lord question her loyalty so much he'd believed her without a hint of doubt. She got up as well and waved at Snape goodbye, but his voice stopped her.

"The Slytherins' company has done you good, Miss Granger. If you were in my House and a Pureblood and if it wasn't me who you've just threatened, I would almost be proud."

Hermione blinked a few times, then blurted out a sort of thanking and left. What in Merlin's name was that? She shook her head and headed to the secret passage she knew would lead her straight to the portrait near the Great Hall entrance, then proceeded towards the dungeons and stopped by Daphne's room to give her the news.

"How's your hand?" She asked.

"Better, thanks. How did it go?" Hermione had told her about her plan before she put it in action, just in case.

"Perfectly. The matter is going straight to Bellatrix's hands," Hermione smiled, amused at the mere thought. Dolores Umbridge would no longer be a problem for anyone.


	7. Lost sanity

Hermione was getting ready to leave for their first Saturday at Hogsmeade, early that morning. She'd woken up pretty late, for her usual standards, had a hot shower and got dressed, deciding to skip breakfast – she would get something to eat at the village. She quickly put on her Slytherin scarf, and left her room.

First stop was Malfoy's room, to let him know she'd done the patrol rounds for the month. He was apparently keen on not doing any rounds himself, so she just agreed to it to avoid listening to his complaints, and kept them both out of the rounds – Hermione was sure they would face a Prefect uprising sooner or later, and she was positive she'd put the blame on Malfoy when the moment came.

She knocked on his door and read through the schedule quickly, to make sure she hadn't missed anything. By the time his royal highness opened the door for her, as soon as she raised her glance she saw a smug-looking Pansy Parkinson leave the room, as if she'd spent the night. Narrowing her eyes, considering if that could actually be a possibility, Hermione followed her with her gaze while she left, then turned towards Malfoy, who was just staring at her from the bed, looking quite confused himself.

Deciding she could easily ignore that odd part of her morning, Hermione entered his room and closed the door behind her, handing him the parchment.

"Prefects patrolling rounds?" He asked, scrolling through it.

"I need to talk to you," she answered instead, taking back the schedule after he was done reading it. Draco's gaze was on her almost immediately.

"If this about Pansy, I –" he started to say, but she interrupted him before he could finish.

"Pansy?" She repeated, confused. "No, why would I care about Pansy Parkinson, of all people? It's about Blaise."

Since she'd missed her chance in Australia, with her parents and all, Hermione decided she'd tell him right then, so he wouldn't be forced to interact with anyone for the weekend and he could process it without making a scene and killing someone – most likely Blaise.

"What about him?" He looked wary now.

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a few seconds. "He's switched sides."

"Blaise Zabini has switched sides?" Draco asked, skeptically, almost as if to make sure he'd heard correctly. Hermione nodded. He looked at her like the idea of his friend being a blood traitor was simply insane. "This is Blaise we're talking about," he repeated, after a while. "Vain, elitist, hard to please, Pureblood Blaise."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not lying, Draco. I saw him. He was with Luna and Teddy Tonks in that house we attacked before coming back to Hogwarts."

"Was he, now?" He asked, raising a blond eyebrow at her. "Then how come we found no one inside?"

Hermione looked away. "When I found them I created a Portkey so they could leave," she admitted, reluctantly.

"You let two blood traitors run away?" Draco asked, though it sounded more like a statement.

"I wouldn't have, if Teddy wasn't with them. He's just a baby, Draco." Hermione wasn't sure that was the whole truth, but she decided to let it go for the moment. She could reconsider her life choices another time.

"Granger, you're _telling_ me that one of my literal three friends is a fucking blood traitor," he almost screamed.

She didn't quite know what to do, so she just cleared her throat and made to leave. "Look, I'm sorry it had to be this way. I just thought you should know."

He didn't even acknowledge her while she left his room. Draco Malfoy was just staring into the nothing, silently.

Once she'd shut the door, Hermione leaned on the wall of the dungeon for a few more seconds, trying to calm down before she went to the Ravenclaw Tower to lave the patrol schedule for the sixth-year and fifth-year prefects.

The Ravenclaw common room was completely different from the Slytherin one, although it had the same colors. It was a nice different. There was something mysterious about it, maybe a trait of Rowena Ravenclaw – even in knowledge there is a non-crossable limit. Hermione would have liked to live there, much to the Hat's great indecision – whether a Ravenclaw or a Gryffindor.

She sighed at the memory of how easy life used to be back then – mountain troll that almost killed her and all – and stuck the parchment sheets on the main board with her wand, ignoring the chatting around her. Hermione recognized Astoria Greengrass as one of the voices. She hoped she didn't see her, so she could still have her nice, quiet day without unpleasant interferences, but of course her luck had flied out of the window.

"You think you've won, don't you, Granger?" The younger Greengrass said, behind her.

Hermione smirked at that and turned around. "If you really want to make a scene, perhaps you should ask Pansy where she spent the night. Aren't the two of you besties or something?"

Astoria visibly paled. Well, if she thought the Slytherin Prince wouldn't move on so quickly, she was clearly wrong.

"Pansy wouldn't do that, she's my friend," Astoria affirmed, which sounded more like a poor attempt at convincing herself that Hermione was lying.

"Believe what you want, really, it's not my problem." Hermione shrugged and left the tower.

She ignored Filch's glance of disdain when she gave him her name for him to check she was on the list and left the castle, smiling. About twenty minutes later, she was sat at her table at Three Broomsticks Inn, her cloak almost completely wet because of the snow.

Madam Rosmerta greeted her with a smile and brought her the usual: molasses pie and Butterbeer. She had taken _Hamlet_ with her, so she could kill some time, but it didn't take long for her to regret it. Hermione was all but in the right mood to ask herself whether he was really crazy, or if his Oedipus complex was too evident to even question it, but she opened the book and started reading anyway, taking a piece of cake, since that was pretty much the only occupation she had.

Smiling as she felt the familiar sweetness of the pie, she turned the page and took of sip of Butterbeer to stop herself from sighing when Blaise Zabini sat in front of her.

"Next time I'll ask him if I can murder _you_ in your sleep." Hermione glared at him and got back to her book.

"Would you really do that?" He narrowed his eyes, somewhat really close to confused.

She raised an eyebrow, surprised by his reaction. "I'm sick of you, you just pop out everywhere." Besides, he seemed to have made it his priority not to leave her alone, which was pretty annoying per se.

"You told Malfoy." It wasn't a question or an accusation, it simply sounded as a statement.

She had told Malfoy. It didn't seem fair to know and not tell him his mate was basically a fraud. More than anything, she was surprised Blaise had found out so quickly.

"So?" Hermione took another sip of her beverage.

"You said you wouldn't."

"I said I wouldn't tell the Dark Lord, and I didn't. _Yet_. I don't seem to recall Malfoy was included."

Blaise shivered, but she wasn't paying enough attention to see that.

"Speaking of, how come he's not here? Aren't you two always together or something?" He asked, a bitter note in his voice. What on earth was going on with him that day?

"Excuse _you_? We most certainly do not." She was quite disturbed that Blaise, of all people, thought they were a thing, or something like that. He spent around time around Slytherins to know that was not the case.

"Of course not," he muttered, unconvinced. "Ginny didn't take her detention very well, by the way," he added after a few minutes of silence, starting to play with her bookmark.

"Not my problem _._ I did what had to be done, I really don't think it's the case to complain about a few carnivore slugs," she snorted.

"I thought there was some kind of truce going on," Blaise said, and she raised her gaze from _Hamlet_ to look at him.

"The first time we managed to speak like civilized people, she was blackmailing me. The second time, I needed her to do her part in a plot that, _by the way_ , was a win for everyone," she clarified. "Don't mistake the fact that I haven't killed you all after you stole my key for truce." She snatched her bookmark from his hands and closed the book, then left two galleons on the table and put her cloak on, ready to leave.

Just as she was turning around, though, Nagini appeared in front of her, with a parchment roll between her teeth. Hermione took it and unrolled it, sighing.

 _The matter you brought to my attention has been taken care of. Nagini will be my eyes and ears for a few hours, just in case someone tries to do something stupid._

Hermione smirked. Dolores Umbridge was dead, finally. "Delightful," she muttered. "Come, Nagini." She tried not to think about the fact that the whole Inn was looking at her, _again_. She honestly didn't care anymore. People would stare no matter what she did.

It was freezing outside, although the snowing had stopped, so she had to cast a quick warming spell. When she was almost half the road to the castle – she certainly wouldn't have a walk around Hogsmeade with Nagini following her – she saw some people coming, but only recognized them when they came nearer. Daphne, Theo and… Blaise?

Daphne approached her smiling and Theo was about to hug her, but Hermione ignored them and yanked Blaise's arm. "How can you be here, did you Apparate?"

There was no way he'd passed her on his way to the castle and she'd left the Inn while he was still inside.

"Even if I could, why would I Apparate?" He asked, confused.

"Because I've just talked to you ten minutes ago." She was not going crazy. She was absolutely _not_ going crazy.

"Hermione, Blaise's been with us the whole time." Theo put a hand on her shoulder and drew her closer.

"Then who have I spoken with at the Three Broomsticks'?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

She was not going crazy.

The three of them looked at each other, worried, then a realization came to her. "Your bloody girlfriend has something to do with this, hasn't she?" She asked, surprised she hadn't thought about it before. That had to be it. Ginny, Luna, it had to be them. Maybe someone had taken some Polyjuice Potion hoping they would get some information out of her.

"Your what?" Daphne's voice had raised in pitch and, from the looks of it, she was about to start skipping.

"Don't talk about her like that," Blaise growled.

"Hermione, tell me who she is!" Daphne was demanding, in the meantime. Hermione knew she'd condemned Blaise to a few weeks of harassment from her, but she could positively affirm he deserved it.

She ignored Theo's pleads, as the poor Slytherin was trying to calm his girlfriend down.

"You'd better stop doing whatever it is you're trying to do, Blaise Zabini, or I'll make you."

Hermione stormed off, as she felt Nagini climb up her leg and on her shoulders, and hoped to get to Hogwarts as soon as possible, so she could finally have some peace.

Once she returned to the castle, Hermione refused to stay closed in her room for the rest of the day, but hated to face the reality: she was drawing way too much attention in the common room, because of Nagini – sprawled out on the leather sofa she was sitting on – looking around the room and observing the seventh-year students. She couldn't say she blamed them, either. A twelve foot snake in the common room was unusual, even for Slytherin.

Her meeting with the two Blaises had made her nice mood disappear. The only thing she could hope for now was that people would eventually get used to Nagini – fast – and stop staring at her, whispering, like she couldn't see – or hear – them.

A few hours later, Hermione decided it was time for lunch. Since almost everyone ran off at the first chance of rare freedom they had, she supposed the Great Hall would be empty. Nagini had started climbing up on people at a certain point – the hint was she was hungry, but Hermione wasn't really in the position of letting her eat the Hogwarts student body – it was finally lunch time. As predicted, the seventh-year table was empty, aside from a few people. She was glad to see they wouldn't scream at the sight of Nagini.

A few minutes later, Draco entered the Great Hall and sat in front of her, his expression as hard as could be. He looked at Nagini questioningly, then put her eyes back on her.

"She's here on reconnaissance," Hermione explained. "Have you talked to him?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer. With the two Blaises, she didn't really know who had been telling the truth and who was a fraud – well, they were both frauds, really, since even the real Blaise pretended to be something he wasn't.

Draco nodded, then started tearing apart a slice of bread. She poured herself some more pumpkin juice and they both finished their lunch silently. As another scream caught her attention, she found that Nagini hissing at Pansy, which inevitably brought an amused smirk on her face. Not even Horcrux snakes liked Pansy Parkinson. Astoria was standing right next to her, and, seeing as they were both there together, she guessed it had something to do with Pansy sleeping with Malfoy while Astoria still had her teenage crush on him.

"Granger, tell it to stop!" Pansy demanded, the fear quite tangible in her voice.

Hermione smiled and looked at the snake. "I'm not her master. She just wants to have lunch, it's fine."

Draco cleared his throat, slightly amused too, and nodded at Pansy, although he was clearly not happy about it. For a brief second she considered that it must truly be a tell of incoming disaster when Draco Malfoy was being the responsible one, between the two of them.

Hermione sighed and told the snake to leave the girl alone. When the animal finally did, Pansy and Astoria didn't leave, just stared at Malfoy arm-crossed.

"Good luck," Hermione chuckled and left them alone. With Malfoy's mood that day, they both had a high chance of being left standing in the middle of the Great Hall.

As soon as she was out the Hall, Nagini disappeared with a soft _puff_. Hermione sighed in relief. Ten minutes of wandering around the castle later, she was finally back into the common room, where she sat next to Theo on a leather sofa. None of them mentioned what had happened earlier, and things between them were never awkward or tense. Theo told her he was actually waiting for Daphne to emerge back from her room, which, she knew, could take a while.

"Have you seen Malfoy? He said he'd let me copy Muggle Studies," Theo complained. _Lazybones_ was the first word that had crossed her mind when she'd met him. He reminded her of Ron a lot, sometimes.

"Great Hall, but I don't think he'll be back anytime soon," she laughed, and he looked questioningly at her. "He's with Pansy and Astoria."

After finally getting it, Theodore Nott burst into laughter, with that laugh of his that just made you smile as well, for some reason.

"Have I missed something?" Daphne asked, walking towards them.

"You know, it's rude to laugh at someone else's expense." Draco appeared from the stone entry and literally collapsed on the couch they were sitting on.

"It's really not, if you just dive right into it," she commented. "How did you manage to get out so soon?"

"I ran. But I think I got it clear that I'm not marrying either of them. Like today wasn't shitty enough." He made a face and closed his eyes.

"Speaking of, guess who we saw at Hogsmeade," Daphne interrupted.

Draco grunted but nodded at her to continue.

"Dahlia Vearjack."

And then the boy scoffed and mumbled something she didn't understand.

"Who's that?" Hermione asked, in spite of herself. It sounded like a big deal.

"She was my betrothed, she graduated Hogwarts last year," he answered.

Hermione made a face. "You had a betrothed? What sick society do you even live in?"

"It's actually quite common among ancient families."

 _Betrothed_ , it sounded so Middle Ages. People should get married they're in love, not because of some magical contract.

A few seconds later they heard a loud explosion coming from the dorms and someone walked out a cloud of black smoke. The figure was rather familiar but in the confusion the explosion had caused, Hermione couldn't really recognize it. The boy was muttering something about a potion.

Minutes passed, and no one made a sound as Snape and Filch marched into the room. Outraged, he looked at the boy, now covered in black because of the smoke.

"Longbottom!" Their Headmaster looked even taller, "Detention!"

Hermione had to stop herself from laughing at the familiarity of that scene.

That night they were all moved in the Great Hall, as the dungeons were filled with a crew of wizards trying to clean up the dorms and get rid of any side-effects the explosive potion may have left.

Hermione sighed into her sleeping bag. She couldn't go to Draco's room, obviously, and she knew that without him and without that blue, vaguely bitter potion, she wouldn't manage to get some sleep and control her hyperactive mind. The only solution seemed to be not getting any sleep at all, but her eyes were refusing to collaborate and she feared for the consequences. Malfoy was on the opposite side of the room and she couldn't let anyone find out about the nightmares.

So she started counting. She counted for what it felt like hours, but, looking at the charmed ceiling showing a rather cloud-free sky, she found that the moon had barely moved from its place since she started. What she didn't consider was that counting actually made her even more sleepy. She would have liked to read, study, occupy her mind, but she couldn't.

A memory from her first year gave her the answer, when she had told Harry and Ron the secret behind the charmed ceiling of the Great Hall, which she had read about in _Hogwarts: A History_. It was Harry. Harry, who had _Accio_ ed his broomstick to win the dragon challenge in fourth year.

She only needed to wait until everyone was asleep, then sneak out the Great Hall and summon her Dreamless Sleep Potion, but it was barely nine and she could still hear voices whispering in the Hall. Right beside her, Daphne was already asleep, but Millicent was still chatting with Tracy.

She felt like the waiting had lasted for hours, as McGonagall finally told them to hush and go to sleep. As she got up and sneaked out, barely managing not to trip in the other sleeping bags in the process, she took a few steps into the first-floor hall to make sure no one could hear her, then summoned the potion, that arrived flying at her within moments later.

She took it and drank it all, sighing when she noticed she had almost ran out and the small sip she had taken wouldn't be enough.

"How much have you been taking?" a voice called behind her. Malfoy.

"You have no right to judge me," she whispered, defensively, and turned around.

"I'm not. Does it work?"

Hermione shivered. "Kind of. At least I don't wake up screaming in the middle of the night."

She could only hope the damn potion did its job. But it didn't.

She dreamed about her parents again, although they were now safe and with every magical ward she could remember to protect them from anyone who wasn't her. She didn't scream, didn't feel her throat ache, but Daphne woke her up claiming she had moved so much she got over her. When she opened her eyes, definitely damp, she had enough lucidity not to scream as she felt her Mark burn. It was important. She could hear the voice in her head ordering her to get back to the Manor. She only hoped he hadn't found out about the plot to get Umbridge out of her life.

Daphne, however, being Daphne, had woken up almost the whole damn Hall, along with McGonagall and Nearly-Headless-Nick, their guardians for the night.

She put a hand on her forehead, wiping away the sweat. "I'm fine," she automatically said, without letting her speak.

"Are you sure? You look terrible." her worried voice got neared.

"Gee, thanks, Daph."

Getting up, Hermione only took her wand with her and whispered a goodbye to Daphne.

"Miss Granger! Where do you think you're going?" McGonagall was shouting from the other side of the Hall. .

She turned around and showed the witch her excuse on her forearm. "Following orders."

As the Great Hall turned silent, she stormed out of the room, resigned on her incapability to stay out of the spotlight, for whatever the reason. It was too late for that anyway.

After she'd Transfigured her sleeping attire into something warmer – and appropriate for the outside world – she had to walk to the Forbidden Forest to find an Apparition point outside Hogwarts' grounds.

As she found herself standing in front of the gates of Malfoy Manor, she waited for them to turn into smoke and let her pass, then for the front door to swing open. When she finally made it to the Drawing Room, she sure as hell wasn't expecting to see what she saw. Her parents and Lord Voldemort were having dinner. Hermione felt like fainting for a moment but she managed to stand still.

Her parents were in Australia. They had promised and assured her they would stay there until winter break was over. Still, they were somehow seated at the great table in the Drawing Room. She could tell they were real, not someone who had taken some Polyjuice Potion.

She approached the table and sat down, glancing questioningly at the Dark Lord.

"Your parents were so kind as to visit us, Hermione. I thought you may have wanted to join us," he explained.

Hermione didn't really know what to say or do if she was being honest. "Yes, my Lord, thank you," she blurted out. "It's nice to see you," she turned to her parents and hoped the implicit question in her tone wasn't that obvious. What the living hell was going on?

"We've missed you too, sweetheart. Lord Voldemort was telling us about his recent successes in the war." Her mother's voice had trembled when she mentioned his _successes_ and Hermione didn't really have to think about the hidden meaning behind that. Muggle history was what it was, she could only hope Lord Voldemort knew nothing about it.

Most wizards thought Muggle business was little less than trash and, consequently, they didn't bother with learning their history. Hermione was really counting on it, for once, since it kept her mother away from the possibility of being cursed to death.

The last thing she wanted was for her parents to get killed. She knew that if that happened, if the Grangers were killed by magic, she would never touch a wand again. She would point it at herself and cast her first _Avada Kedavra_ , rather than living in a world where part of herself was responsible for their death.


	8. Unexpected

Dinner, although later than she was used to, went relatively well. If "well" could be used to describe any dinner with your Muggle parents and the Dark Lord. Her parents almost immediately understood why they had initially decided to stay as far as possible from London, and, when the time came for them to get back home – magic taxis, she would never understand – and Hermione was offered, or, better yet, ordered, to stay the night, claiming it was too late to come back to school.

Hermione had obviously been forced to accept with a smile and spent a sleepless, tormented night. She left her room as soon as the light of the dawn greeted her, at barely seven o'clock, and decided it was time to leave.

The night before she had seen no one around the house, which was pretty odd, since there was always someone up, whether it was Narcissa Malfoy reading on an armchair or the elves. She thought she heard Bellatrix's voice after the nightmares woke her once again.

The only thing she wanted was to come back to Hogwarts, steal, if she had to, some more Dreamless Sleep Potion and lock herself up in her room until she forgot her parents were in danger again.

She quickly left a note on the table in the Drawing Room and disappeared in the green flames of the Floo. The destination was Snape's office – the only one enabled to Floo to the Manor and back – where, with her great surprise, she found Neville Longbottom, probably because of his incoming detention for almost blowing up the dungeons – and the seventh-years – in the process.

She could tell both Neville and Snape were surprised to see her and Hermione justified her presence with a shrug. "The Dark Lord sends his regards," she told Snape and left the office.

When she finally reached the dungeons, she found the Anti-poisoning Department wizards had finally done their job, since the secret passage opened for her as soon as she said the password.

Hermione ran up to her room and decided a hot shower wouldn't hurt. Once the water was running down her body, she sighed in relief. The heat relaxed her muscles and filled the entire bathroom. Hermione figured she had probably spent too much in the shower when she heard a knock on the door. That could only be Malfoy.

She turned off the stream of water and put her robe on – an oddly comfy and green Slytherin robe –, then opened the door of her bathroom.

"What did he want?" Theodore Nott was leaning on the wall besides a windowpane, arms crossed. Yet, she was damn sure she had closed the door.

"Hello to you too." She walked past him and opened her closet. "He wanted me to join him and my parents for dinner."

Theo raised an eyebrow, skeptically. "Your parents? Your Muggle parents were having dinner with the Dark Lord?"

Hermione couldn't help a faint smile crossing her lips. "Apparently." She took a loose sweatshirt and a pair of jeans and closed herself back in the bathroom to get changed.

"Isn't this just a tiny bit weird?"

"It's extremely weird, yes, considering they had promised to stay where I'd hidden them before the war."

"So that's what you were doing with Malfoy?"

She mumbled a, "Yes, he just said he wanted to meet them, so I had to go and remove the memory spell on them," and tried to tie up her hair, unsuccessfully. "How did you get in? I'm sure I've closed the door and you can't open it without a key if you're not the owner."

When she finally opened the door again, he was looking at her doubtfully. "Granger, the door was open."

"No, I am sure I've closed it."

"It was open," he repeated.

Ok, fine. Maybe she was going a little bit crazy. "Come on, let's go."

They left her bedroom and she made sure to close up this time, then sat on a couch in front of the master fireplace, the common room slowly filling back up with people.

"Where the hell have you been?" Draco was looking at her, questioningly and vaguely mad.

Hermione sighed and sat more comfortably on the couch. "At your place."

"And it was so important to require your presence in the middle of the night?"

She rolled her eyes. "It was barely ten and the Dark Lord thought I would enjoy having dinner with him and my parents. Their flight had a little delay."

"Your parents?" he sat on the tea table in front of her. She knew what he was asking her.

"I don't know why they came back and I'm not sure it's safe to owl them. I didn't get the chance to be alone with them last night and I left early this morning so I wouldn't have to see anyone." And she was exhausted from the sleepless night she had.

"Are you ok?" He asked, while Theo's gaze moved from her to Draco.

"Kind of." She closed her eyes and leaned further into the couch.

§§§

"Are you sure it's not weird? And I hope these aren't the same sheets." Hermione was awkward, at best, sitting on his bed.

"I'm sure and, no, not the same sheets. Come on, I didn't catch any sleep yesterday and neither did you." Draco, on the other hand, was casually lying in the four-posters in what was his usual sleeping attire: sweatpants.

Luckily, her brain had already got used to it and she could manage to be in the same room with his half-naked self without blushing. "I hate when you're right." She pushed back a sigh and crawled in the bed next to him.

"You want to talk about dinner?"

"Not today. I really want to sleep." She laughed without any real humor in her voice, and closed her eyes as he nodded in agreement.

She only woke up a few hours later, because of Malfoy turning and moving next to her. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand and shook him, trying to get him to wake up. Finally, she managed to make Draco at least open his eyes, which she found to be full of fear. Hermione had rarely seen him like this, scared and vulnerable, without that damn mask he had – or wanted – to wear.

She murmured him to calm down, that it'd been only a dream and his arms, holding him tighter when he finally realized what was happening and leaned into her. Hermione heard him whisper a soft thanks. It was least she could do, after all the times she had woken him up with her nightmares.

Suddenly, Draco held his head up and looked at her and then there were only his lips on hers, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

§§§

The next morning, Draco woke up with a jump. Before he fell back asleep he had felt so stupid it almost hurt. How could he even think of kissing her? _Hermione Granger._ The Dark Lord's darling – the Mudblood.

 _Stupid!_

Draco didn't even know why he'd done it.

He got up ever so lightly not to wake her up, grabbed his uniform and locked himself up in the bathroom. He needed a cold shower. A very cold one. He put the clothes on the border of the sink, undressed and turned the stream of water on. Thank goodness the cold helped clear his head, even when he'd thought to be close to hypothermia, and he even managed to enjoy a nice, warm shower eventually.

After he'd dried up and dressed, Draco quickly took care of his hair and left the safety of his bathroom, noticing that Granger was still asleep, lying on her belly and hugging a pillow. A smile found its way on his lips but she managed to brush it off.

 _Stupid!_

He was almost afraid to wake her, but forced himself to man up – a Malfoy could _not_ be afraid of waking up a girl in his bed! – and sat next to her, slightly shaking her shoulder and announcing that they had to get going if they wanted to catch breakfast.

The witch murmured something he didn't understand and finally got up, brushing the sleep off her face with her hand.

"What time is it?" Her morning voice asked.

"Half past seven." Draco could barely look at her in the eyes, hoping she wouldn't bring up the kiss. He couldn't know Hermione was hoping for the same thing.

Breakfast was a blessing, actually, for both of them. Once in the Great Hall, they sat as far as possible from each other without making it look suspicious, Hermione next to Daphne and Draco next to Miles Bletchley.

Daphne was as Daphne as ever. Hermione simply couldn't find a word to describe her.

She caught herself thinking that maybe she would manage to go on with her day without Malfoy mentioning the kiss. She had no idea how she felt about it and didn't want to ruin their… whatever it was. She was sipping her coffee absentmindedly while considering talking to Daphne about it, just as her blonde friend interrupted her mental pro and con list.

"Jaime Knight is looking at you," she muttered, nonchalantly.

"What?" Hermione looked at her with a confused expression and the witch nodded at her to turn around. And she found that Jaime Knight, Slytherin, was indeed looking at her.

"I think you have an admirer," she chuckled next to her and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I don't even know him, and he probably hates me, Muggle-born and all. The Wizarding World could really use a Martin Luther King," she muttered the last part under her breath and finished her coffee.

"A what?"

"We have to go, we're already late for Potions," she told Draco, a few seats away from her, and got up.

"Want me to do some digging?" Daphne offered.

"I don't care, Daphne. The only thing I do care about right now is the Draught of Peace." …and how she could get some for herself.

She gave Draco a quick look while he nodded at Miles goodbye and started walking to the Potion classroom. Oddly enough, he was completely normal, like nothing ever happened, but it kind of was what Hermione wanted. She quietly sighed in relief.

The way to the dungeons was unusually full of words. They talked about classes, who was going to be the new Dark Arts teacher, the incoming Hogsmeade trip and Malfoy even told her about the panic her exit caused two nights before.

They reached the classroom only a few minutes before class was scheduled to start, while almost everyone was taking a seat. On the blackboard behind Slughorn, a white chalk was writing the name of the potion of the day: the Draught of Peace.

Draco found it ironic, how he was supposed to prepare a potion that would make you feel so calm and peaceful while there was complete chaos in his head. Maybe he could take enough to forget.

 _Stupid!_

§§§

Hermione was happy to see that, merely one day later, just in time for the double Dark Arts with Malfoy, things were back to normal. None of them mentioned the kiss, although both were still thinking about it, they just went on with their lives like the always had.

The best part of it, though, had been learning who the new teacher was: Severus Snape. Normally, a Headmaster wouldn't teach, but Snape wasn't exactly normal.

She rolled her eyes and leaned on the wall. Why on earth did they have to stand if there were tables and chairs for everyone? She couldn't even take notes.

"Today you will be practicing duels with Unforgivables," he started with cold, bored voice, "Learning how to cast a spell without knowing when to use it is of no use." Snape looked at her for a moment and then said, "Try to avoid the killing curse, for now."

Hermione rolled her eyes. Why would she kill someone in a school duel?

Professor Snape assigned everyone a random opponent, or that was what she thought until she saw the couples: Ginny Weasley to Draco and Pansy Parkinson to her.

The most improbable couple of all, though, was Blaise Zabini and Luna Lovegood. Did Snape know? He was a member of the Order, but how many actually knew about that? Dumbledore, of course, but he was dead and she had a few doubts he had many people. Nonetheless, his portrait was available to everyone. Everyone who had a sudden wish of risking their lives to sneak into Snape's office, of course, but still.

Hermione turned to face Pansy, raised her wand, turned around and took the usual five steps. She pointed her wand at her opponent and smiled.

 _"Stupefy!"_ a Stunning Spell as the first move was almost as dull as her.

Hermione quickly cast a shield and the spell backfired, so Pansy was forced to move in order not to get hit.

" _Impedimenta!_ I got you, Granger," she smirked, as Hermione found herself unable to move or speak.

 _I don't think so, Parkinson. Levicorpus!_

As the spell faded because of Pansy dropping her wand, Hermione pointed her wand at her and focused on the spell. _"_ _Crucio!_ "

It lasted exactly twelve seconds. Pansy had been left hanging upside-down mid-air, groaning, until Snape said her technique was "presumptuous". She didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or not.

In the meantime, Ginny had almost knocked down Draco with a Stupefy, Blaise and Luna didn't manage to get further than a _Confundus_ and an _Expelliarmus_ , and Theo had made Neville run in circles with an _Imperio_. Daphne and Hannah Abbott were doing good, but Daphne was way more used to Unforgivables than Hannah – Hufflepuff – would ever be.

She turned her attention back to Draco, who had now recovered and cast the Cruciatus Curse on Ginny, that was on her knees with her head in her hands.

§§§

Hermione was now heading to the dorms, for one of her two free periods – the only lesson available for those two hours was Divination and she refused. It was the last hour of school, so after that, she would be free to focus on studying and the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday.

She had a weird feeling, like being followed, but she didn't see anyone when she turned around, apart from Filch's creepy cat. Hermione shrugged and got back to walking, but heard an _Incarcerus_ being whispered mere moments later by a way-too-familiar voice.

When she somehow managed to turn around without falling down, she was aware of her now clear madness. Harry Potter took her hand and dragged her in an abandoned broom closet, casting a _Lumos_ so they could see each other.

"You're dead," was the only thing she said.

"Dumbledore helped with that," he admitted, but he clearly had no intention of elaborating.

"Was it you? All the times I saw you in the halls?" She was out of breath.

"That and the two Zabinis. I didn't trust him, so I tested him and he agreed on letting me use Polyjuice to be him a few times." Harry was looking at her like she had just killed someone, arm-crossed.

"I thought I was crazy!" Hermione stared at him, accusingly.

"Maybe you are," he shook his head and frowned, "How could you let him _Crucio_ Ginny?"

"Draco was dueling with her, not me," she defended.

"Draco?" he asked like he was about to burst into laughter.

"Yes, Draco. Why are you only showing up now, if you know I could call the Dark Lord get you killed, again?" She asked, warily. That was in fact what she was supposed to do, as a Death Eater.

"Because you know I'd make you forget and get out of here before he even enters the gates, and then it would be your problem," he waited for an answer that wouldn't come. "I just want to know the truth, Hermione. Why are you still with them?"

"Because I have no choice," she growled. "And it's not your problem anymore, Harry it's mine. What do you plan on doing, killing me?" Then she truly looked at him, looked at that boy she had grown up with and loved like a brother. She couldn't risk it. It had been different with Luna and Blaise, Teddy was there and she couldn't do it, but there were no babies between her and The-Boy-Who-Lived. "I don't want to hear another word."

"I'd never kill you, Hermione," he sighed. "Even though you're at a sociopath's orders now."

"Then make me forget," she decided. She didn't want her friend to die, but she surely couldn't risk the Dark Lord diving into her head and finding out that she knew Harry Potter was alive.

"What?" the mask he had been wearing had broken down into pieces.

"I don't want to remember you, or any of this nonsense."

He thought about it for what felt like forever, and Hermione used that time to convince herself it was for the best, the right thing to do. It had to be.

Eventually, Harry Potter looked at her and raised his wand. _"Oblivion!"_

Hermione Granger woke up a few minutes later in a broom closet, for some absurd reason. She wasn't even sure she wanted to know how she got there, did someone lock her up or something?

But she wasn't locked. The door opened quite easily and then she was standing in the middle of the first floor hallway, next to the Muggle Studies classroom. She brushed the dust off her clothes and a note fell out of her sleeve. Her sleeve?!

Hermione took it from the floor and opened it.

 _You said you didn't want to remember._

What the hell? According to the clock hanging on the wall next to her, it was a quarter to four in the afternoon. What had even happened to her in the thirty minutes she'd been knocked out?

She headed to the dungeons, still pretty confused, and pronounced the password for the week, _Tempus edax rerum_ , but didn't even get the chance to sit down before Malfoy ran up to her. Both her free periods matched his – though Draco had more – and they'd decided to spend that Friday afternoon together working on a Transfiguration essay they had to turn in.

"Where were you?"

"In a bloody broom closet," she snorted and sat down.

"And why in Salazar's name were you in a broom closet?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I honestly have no idea. Can we talk about something else?" She felt like she physically needed to stop thinking about it. Her head hurt.

"Well, I've talked to Blaise quite a bit today," he confessed and sat next to her. "Last time it was just screaming, from both of us. Apparently, he's met Lovegood at a Quidditch match and then one thing led to another. He claims to love her," he snorted and tossed his feet on her lap, spreading himself all over the couch.

Hermione grimaced.

He smirked a little and looked away. "I don't know if he'll come back to his old self, but I have no intention of getting involved in this madness."

"Do you really think it's madness?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"If the Dark Lord finds out about this, he will make him drink that damn potion for the rest of his miserable life and he'll kill Looney Lovegood right in front of his eyes. All of this while Blaise's not even a Death Eater so, yes, I do think it's madness," he rolled his grey eyes at her, "He could have bloody well just shagged her without so many ceremonies."

Hermione shook her head, "And they say chivalry's dead."

He lightly punched her arm. "I am the personification of chivalry, mind you." She laughed at that.

§§§

Hermione woke up still exhausted. She had barely managed to get some sleep and the last thing she needed was an early Saturday morning alarm, but she had to meet Daphne and didn't want to be late.

She quickly got out of bed and headed to the bathroom for a shower. After brushing her teeth, she opened her closet and took a black sweater and some dark jeans. She wasn't in the right mood for colored clothes, mostly because she knew Daphne well enough to know where that date was going.

Hermione found Daphne Greengrass seated on a bench by the Black Lake, waiting for her, and she couldn't but worry about her friend's perfect timing. Daphne was never on time, _ever_. She couldn't arrive on time to save her life.

Hermione sat next to her on the bench. "To what do I owe the pleasure of not having to wait for you, Daph?"

"Well, I was eager to know what's going on between you and Draco," her friend said, trying to be seem nonchalant.

"Nothing's happening, sorry to disappoint you."

Daphne stretched her legs in front of her and drew her hair on a shoulder.

"And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I don't buy it. There's something you're not telling me." She gave her the look and Hermione couldn't help feeling a little intimidated. Daphne had a way of always getting what she wanted, her strategy mainly being wearing people out until they gave up.

"Fine, something happened, but it was nothing," she admitted, reluctantly.

Daphne scoffed at that. "It's never nothing."

Hermione looked away. "We may have kissed." She could not believe she was blushing. What was wrong with her?

Daphne barely managed to hold back a squeak. "How was it? How did it happen? Why didn't you tell me?" It was like someone had plugged her in and now she couldn't stop. She was like a baby at Christmas.

"I didn't tell you because it didn't mean anything. It happened on Sunday, he woke up and kissed me," she blurted out and realized when it was already too late she had let an important detail slip.

"Wait a second, did you just say he woke up?" She asked with a smile from ear to ear.

Hermione hesitated, "I said no such thing."

"Yes, you did," Daphne grinned. Was she hoping she'd buy it? "Were you sleeping together?"

"Can you just drop that part? It's not even important," she hopefully asked.

"Spill it out, Granger," she almost demanded. Never mind.

"Fine, but you don't know anything about this, understood?" When she nodded, Hermione continued, "We sleep in the same bed quite often, because of the nightmares."

"Let me get this straight," Daphne started reasoning out loud. "You've been _sleeping in the same bed_ all this time and you have only kissed once?" She looked like a Muggle seeing a ghost for the first time.

"Could you try not to sound that perplexed, please?" She complained.

"No. And what do you mean it was nothing? This isn't nothing, Hermione."

"Well, none of us has mentioned it again, after it happened, not once."

They remained in silence for a few minutes, then Daphne suddenly got up, radiant, and took her hand, claiming they could talk about it in front of a Butterbeer.

Hermione followed her, rather worried and mostly because she didn't have a choice. "What are you plotting, Greengrass?"

"Why would I ever be plotting something?" She answered with nonchalance.

As if.

§§§

Draco Malfoy only wanted to sleep. Really, it was all he asked. But, of course, Theo didn't agree with that. He had even dared to open the curtains, so the greenish light would enlighten the room. All because Granger had stolen Daphne for the day and he was bored.

"Come on, Draco, it's Saturday and you're locked in your room like a first-year trying to get their homework done," he complained, trying to get him out of bed.

"Clearly, I'm not locked up enough," Draco grunted looking at him.

"I will allow no such thing. Get up and let's get out of here."

Ten minutes later, the heir to the Malfoy house was showered and dressed, ready to go wherever Theo decided to, with the condition he would leave him alone for the afternoon.

Twenty minutes later, the same heir to the same Malfoy house was out, in the cold, walking to Hogsmeade with his damn, irritating best friend.

Thirty minutes later, Draco Lucius Malfoy had spilled his secret like a fourteen-year-old girl.

"Will you leave me alone?" He scoffed.

"Not a chance. Why didn't you tell me you kissed her? And why did it only happen once, have you seen her?" Theo was a step away from giggling like a crazed teenager.

"Yes, Theo, I have indeed seen her. But she's the Dark Lord's darling and I like my head to be on my neck." Draco used the first excuse that came to his mind and kept walking.

"So you're telling me this is the only reason?" He eyed him suspiciously.

"Is there any particular reason _you_ won't leave me alone?" He grunted, trying to direct their topic somewhere else.

"Nope, I'm only having fun while my girlfriend's not here," he laughed.

"She'd better get back soon, then, I've had enough of you."

He refused to believe Theo had seriously made him doubt his decision to leave the matter unspoken of.

"Lovely, but you're still an idiot. You should talk to her."

 _You think I don't know?_ He wanted to answer.


	9. Revealed

Hermione was hating Daphne Greengrass with her whole self. She just couldn't believe it, nor she wanted to.

"What is this, revenge?" Draco was leaning on a wall.

"I don't give a damn about what this is supposed to be, she can't lock me up in my own room!" she almost shouted, annoyed.

Draco waved at the room with one hand, almost affirming that yes, she clearly could. "You did the exact same thing to her, I'm the only victim here."

"That's beyond the point," she snorted.

She wanted and at the same time didn't want to talk about what had happened. She knew it would end up bad, ruining what they had, that friendship that had fought its way into their life through insults, sleepless nights in her bedroom at the Manor and classes. She would not let it all disappear because of a kiss in the night, blinded by the nightmares. She refused to loose him over it.

"We don't have to talk about it," she sighed and sat on the bed.

"We do." She just hated Daphne had forced her to do it. "So?"

She took a deep breath. "So, you kissed me by mistake and that's it," she forced herself to say.

Draco Malfoy looked at her like she was crazy. "I did not kiss you by mistake. You can't just slip and fall on someone's lips out of luck. Granger, you're supposed to be the best student in Hogwarts." He paused and looked away.

"It's just…" Hermione didn't really know how to voice her concerns in a way that made sense. "This is dangerous territory."

He moved and stood in front of her. For a moment, a brief moment, Hermione was scared. If he touched her, she would give in. Sometimes she wished she could afford acting out of impulse, not giving a damn about the consequences, but she couldn't. "The Dark Lord," he just said, and Hermione simply nodded and closed her eyes. "Do you want this – us – to be something else?" he asked, and she didn't know what to say. She did feel different about him, but, in the situation they both were at that moment, there was too much on the line.

"I think so. But still, this is dangerous, Draco. We can't just walk around and play couple," she sighed.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. After a few minutes of silence on both sides, he looked at her again and took her left hand into his. "He doesn't have to know. To the outer eye, we'll be just friends."

"Just friends?" she repeated, a little skeptical.

"Just friends," he promised. And his lips were on hers once again. Definitely, you can't kiss someone by mistake. Their kiss was slow, and deep, like they had all the time in the world. Just like their first should have been.

It didn't go much further than that. They talked for hours, in bed, decided they would go watch a Quidditch game during Christmas break – Hermione had objected, but he didn't give her much of a choice. He affirmed that, since she had forbidden him to skip any of the classes they had in common, she had to get bored as much as he had – and that she wouldn't visit her parents. As hard as it was, she knew she had to stay as far as possible from them. She couldn't just go home and have a random Death Eater Apparate in her living room for this or that reason. They even played Magical Chess and Hermione was glad she finally had an adversary that could beat her if she wasn't careful.

They did everything Daphne thought they weren't supposed to do, and she was quite surprised, the next morning, to find them dressed up – or at least Hermione, since Draco slept in his usual sweatpants. Without waking them up, Daphne had put their wands on the night-table and left the room horrified. The last time Theo and her were locked in that very room, they had had great make-up sex, but seemed to have happened between Draco and Hermione.

Draco and Hermione, on the other hand, woke up unusually late. Maybe she would manage to sneak into the kitchens and ask the Elves for some food, since it was way too late for breakfast, but she didn't even feel like opening her eyes. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept in.

Draco's breathing had changed, a sign he was awake as well. Not that any of them wanted to get up and do something productive, for once.

"You heard Daphne coming in earlier?" His morning voice asked.

Daphne had come in? She shook her head and closed her eyes again.

"I think she's even said something, but I didn't what," he chuckled. It was kind of odd she hadn't heard her, though, since Daphne had sometimes the smoothness of a Troll.

"We should get up," Hermione murmured a few minutes later.

"Aha," he yawned half-word.

Eventually, the common sense took over. Hermione's common sense, of course: if she was to listen to Draco, they would stay in bed all day. The got up and showered and, she had to admit, it was both odd and cute that he smelled of her vanilla-scented shower gel.

In the common room, an over-hyped Daphne was talking her boyfriend into oblivion. When Hermione approached them, Daphne didn't even say hi, just turned the other way.

"What's got your panties in a twist, Daph?" Draco asked, and she abandoned almost immediately her intent of – apparently – ignoring them.

"How could you play chess?" She accused them, like it was the most horrible of things.

"How do you know we did?" Hermione chuckled.

"That beyond the point! You were supposed to talk and sort things out," she almost whined.

"We did," Hermione explained with the same tone a parent would use while talking to a four-year-old. Daphne did have a slight tendency to act like one, sometimes.

Before Daphne could say anything else, Theo clarified her point, trying to put an end to that conversation, "I think she's referring to the fact that we talked, sorted things out and later on had sex on your bed."

Hermione took a deep breath and elbowed Draco as soon as he started laughing. "There was no need to remind me."

A few minutes later, Theo decided he needed a break from his girlfriend and Draco had been way too happy to join him.

"So this is your brilliant plan, friends with benefits? It's not going to work, you'll end up being two perfect lovebirds." Daphne looked skeptical, at best.

"We are not friends with benefits!" Hermione felt insulted she would even think that.

"Come on, whose idea was it?" She pulled her hair to the side and started braiding them.

Hermione hesitated. "His, but I may have started it."

"You mind elaborating?"

Hermione wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and sighed. "I don't want him to have another name to add to the list of people I care about he can kill. This way, we will look like some sleazy friends with benefits, like you said, and perhaps he'd be safe."

§§§

"Why won't you let me copy Transfiguration?" Draco was complaining, all while eating his pudding nonchalantly, like it was perfectly normal not to do a thing all day and then ask her to let him copy her homework.

"If McGonagall notices we made the same essay again, she will give us detention and I have no intention of wasting my time like that," she tried to make him reason.

Draco just shrugged. "What do you care? We can skip, Snape won't mind."

She rolled her eyes. "I do care. I said no, ask someone else."

"Please?" He stole the apple she was eating and bit it.

"Stealing my food isn't going to help you." She took it back and went back to reviewing her Arithmancy notes.

"Troubles in paradise?" Theodore Nott appeared from nowhere behind them, then sat next to her.

"You're back."

"Yeah, it was a much-needed break. Thanks, by the way, Daphne's calmed down. Whatever you did or said, I think she approves," he sighed.

"Right. Can we talk about something else?" Draco sighed and finished his pumpkin juice.

"Sure," Theo shrugged, then pointed his eyes on him. "Why aren't you talking to Blaise anymore?"

Draco lowered his eyes to his pudding. "I don't agree with his life choices," he almost groaned.

Theo almost laughed. "You don't agree with anyone's life choices. Hermione?"

She made a face. She'd like to say it, honestly, but they didn't need someone else on the list of people who knew about Blaise's betrayal. If the Dark Lord found out they all knew, it would not be pretty. "Sorry, Theo. It's not my secret to tell."

§§§

A random Charms class of a random Friday morning, or so Hermione thought.

"Let me sit next to her! I need to talk to her."

Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy were fighting, big surprise. Just, she didn't get why they were fighting about who should sit next to her. Bad news, she was sure.

"No way."

"What are you two, twelve?" she hissed. The whole class was staring at them and Hermione, outraged, went to sit next to Daphne in the second row. Right when Professor Flitwick arrived, the boys were still hissing and scowling at each other and they ended up having to sit together, since there were no free seats left.

"What was he talking about?" Daphne whispered.

"No idea," Hermione whispered back.

Blaise kept ranting and whispering he needed to talk to her, during the first minutes of class and Draco hadn't hesitated to show his annoyance every time his desk-mate opened his mouth. Only at the end of the class, when everyone had left, she turned to him.

"D.A. tonight. You in?" he asked, hopeful.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What, you took me as the member of honor? Absolutely not, Zabini."

"But-"

"No. Stay away from me, I won't say it again." She took her bag and left, following Daphne out of the class.

Muggles were indeed right when they said a bad day could only get worse. Blaise didn't leave her alone for the rest of the day, until she finally let him speak. Apparently, he, along with the rest of the D.A. didn't think she had really "Gone bad," as he said, and they wanted her back with them. Hermione couldn't have that. She couldn't do her job with them messing around and talking to her all the time. It would raise suspicions.

§§§

And so the much awaited holidays came. All the way on the train she thought about her plan, how to make it happen and how to make it as efficient as possible. It wouldn't be that hard, since she was staying at Malfoy Manor.

Hermione smiled when she felt Draco take her hand and she rested her head on the window glass, closing her eyes. She was absently listening to the low chatting around her and she found that even Theo's jerky jokes were having a calming effect on her. Maybe it was the awareness that she had to convince someone of her loyalty again, maybe it was just the Dark Lord's presence that would fulfil her life for some good two weeks. She just had a bad feeling.

Even Blaise, she noticed, was way more silent than usual – and he wasn't the chatty one even on his best days. Actually, he wasn't talking at all and she refused to believe it had something to do with her or her promise for answers.

Hermione didn't have a choice, she needed the Order to leave her alone. If Blaise wanted proof, that was exactly what she would give him. Malfoy Manor didn't lack prisoners, that was for sure.

Hours later, in the Drawing Room, Hermione was already regretting not staying at Hogwarts – as if she actually had a choice. Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy hadn't considered necessary to wait for them at Binary 9¾ and so Hermione and Draco Apparated to the Manor alone, escaping the usual awkward silence. Only later they understood why they hadn't come.

It was maybe the hundredth scream of the afternoon and Hermione heard it echo in her head. "Bellatrix, we've been here for hours and you didn't even get his name out of him. I have better things to do than watching you fail," she complained. Over time, the fear she had of Bellatrix dissipated, mostly because she knew she couldn't do anything to her. Silence fell over the room. She felt like everyone was looking at her as the Dark Lord had made them all stay there and assist to the interrogation.

"You filthy prat, how dare you?" Bellatrix moved her wand from the prisoner's face to hers as she stood up. "What are you doing? The Dark Lord clearly said to-"

"The Dark Lord wants answers and it's exactly what I am going to give him. Step aside." Hermione was having none of it. She was sick of the little show Bellatrix had put up. Plus, Blaise was there. It was about time she put her plan in motion.

"I have no intention to do that," Bellatrix spat.

"You will," Severus Snape intervened, much to her great surprise, "I don't have all day."

Fully aware that Blaise was watching – he had taken the Dark Lord's advice to attend the "meeting," not that he had much choice – she let the part of her she most hated run free, the one she got to know when she'd become a Death Eater.

Hermione stood in front of the prisoner and pulled out her wand. "I suppose you don't want to tell me everything you know out of your own free will, do you?"

The man looked at her like she was crazy and then muttered a low, "Over my dead body."

"We'll see about that. I don't believe in causing pain in order to obtain answers and you're clearly trained to handle it well. Nonetheless, hurting someone you love can prove itself to be unbearable, more than Bellatrix on her best day."

She heard a loud snort behind her but ignored her. They all knew what was about to happen. She wasn't happy about it, but it was the only way to get the Order to leave her alone.

"Bring me the girl."

She saw his eyes widen and hit him with a Silencing charm, then turned to Greyback, visibly eager to see the show. Hermione barely managed to repress a disgusted grunt at the sight. Taking the girl's arm and pulling her to her side, she looked at what seemed to be her boyfriend and held her wand to his temple.

 _"Imperio!"_

And she repeated the order in his head until she learned it by heart.

Until she started to believe it herself.

Until she saw his mental barriers collapse.

Then he stood up, his constraints Vanished. His lover was trembling. She didn't know what was happening, she only looked at him, pleading.

"Eric, please, whatever it is, don't do it," she kept repeating. If you weren't trained to fight it, you just had no way to resist the Imperius Curse and not everyone had a mind as strong as Harry's, powerful enough to step out of it and get away.

Hermione stepped aside and sat in the very chair he had been sitting in, looking at Blaise just for the sake of it, who, she found, was staring right back at her. She turned towards Draco, absently watching the scene before them. She could see his shield was up.

"Eric… Er… don't… please… fight it…" the words flowed confused out of her lips, her voice trembling because of the man's hands around her throat. He smiled that macabre smile she had seen way too many times, similar to Greyback's smirk when the Dark Lord gave him a prisoner to have fun with.

It wasn't the most pleasing show, but no one could help but watch, some amused, others indifferent. Only Blaise was still only looking at her.

A few seconds later, she choke on own blood, some escaping her mouth, and fell to the ground, followed by Eric, who, as soon as the spell had vanished, realized what he'd done. He took her head in his hands and his sobs echoed in the large room.

"What was it, Eric?" She asked. "Over your dead body? Because I'm pretty sure we have your little sister as well." Hermione would never have hurt the child, directly or indirectly, but he didn't need to know that. She only hoped the man wouldn't put her in the position to.

With a last, exhausted breath, Eric looked at her. "What do you want to know?"

She smirked, a habit Draco had infected her with, and got up. "And merely ten minutes later, Bellatrix, my work here is done. Have fun."

Leaving the room, Hermione nodded at Blaise to follow her.

"What the hell was that?" He hissed when they were far enough.

"He was lucky, most of them go mad," she muttered, inexpressively.

"What is wrong with you?" Blaise grabbed her arm and turned her around.

"A lot of things," she laughed an unamused laugh. "You people need to leave me alone, Blaise," Hermione added, more serious now. They had to. They had to leave her do her job and they had to let her deal with her own problems. There was no way she could get out if they kept being in her way and interfering.

"This isn't you," he insisted.

Hermione glared at his hand on her and he seemed to get the message, letting her go.

"I think it's time for you to leave, Zabini," Draco almost growled, appearing right behind them.

"Right."

The last thing she heard before Draco's arms were around her was the smacking of the front door.


	10. Mr Hyde

Hermione couldn't stop thinking about what she did. The Eric episode was new for her, as, for once, no one had forced her to torture him or make him kill his lover. Every other time she had done it, it had been because the Dark Lord wanted her to, but this time it was personal. She needed the Order to leave her alone. A few hours prior, she had been told the man had killed himself as soon as he found a wand he could get his hands on.

Her damn brain was torn: the first half, the one that could still manage to think clearly, was telling her she was a monster for what she'd done; the second one, the one already surrendered to Voldemort, thought she'd done the right thing. She felt like bloody Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. She felt like she was going crazy. Voices in her head, light and dark were tearing her apart and she felt like two different people in the same body.

A knock on the door made her head stop spinning for a second and she got up almost immediately from the bed. Hermione opened the door and found Draco staring right back at her.

"Bellatrix?" she asked, almost amused.

"You," he merely answered. She was about to ask what that was supposed to mean, but he preceded her and sat on the bed. Yet, she thought she had been absolutely normal at dinner. "Wanna talk about it?" Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "If that's a no, it's not very convincing."

"I'm fine, really," she said, although it was pretty clear he didn't believe her. She could almost see his thoughts projected in his eyes.

"Granger–"

"I said I'm fine." She tried to sound as convincing as possible, but Draco was clearly just giving up, instead of buying it.

He simply nodded and got under the covers, pulling her towards him. None of them said a word, although they were both aware the other was awake, and only the time it took them to fall asleep helped them forget. Almost.

Hermione woke up screaming, for a change, panicked and sweating like every other time. She should have known her mind would give her away. Draco barely managed to calm her down, that night, while Eric was forcing her to kill her parents – she was right, after all, inflicting pain would never be as painful as making someone hurt their loved ones.

She didn't close her eyes again after that. Hermione just stared quietly at the ceiling, afraid to fall asleep again, even when she was so tired her eyes tried to close. The next morning she found that tiredness had indeed taken her down without her even realizing it, and she was woken up by Draco's arm over her. Relief hit her when she realized she hadn't had any more nightmares, at least none she remembered of.

Hermione opened her eyes and found his grey ones staring at her.

§§§

Hermione was informed – not without an amused smirk on Draco's part – that the Quidditch match he was dragging her to was that very night. _Lovely_. Hours and hours watching some blokes fly around, trying to avoid having their bones broken by Bludgers and passing each other some weird shaped ball. Best part was, she could be forced to have to stay there for days, literally, if a damn Seeker didn't manage to get the Snitch. What could possibly go wrong?

Hermione had to suppress a groan when she saw Draco waiting for her at the front door, with his signature smirk on. After making it past the wards and Disapparating, Hermione was standing before the main entrance of the stadium, annoyed.

A wizard checked their tickets and she found their seats were – unsurprisingly – in the official gallery. Everyone else would be ecstatic at the idea, but for her it was just more stairs to climb. Once they finally arrived, Hermione took her cloak off and unceremoniously let it fall on what looked like quite the expensive seat, while Draco sat at her left.

"Do I really have to be here?" She complained and let her fingers play with his hair.

"Yes, you do," he grinned, "You'll like it, just wait and see."

"This is not my first Quidditch match, I already know I won't."

"Be nice," Draco murmured and laughed, taking her hand.

While the game was about to start Hermione noticed she heard a familiar voice behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know that was Ginny's voice, then Mr. Weasley and George – or was it Fred? She could bear Ginny, maybe Arthur too, but there was no way she could do the same with the twins. She hated that Arthur Weasley was given official gallery tickets at work, again. Hermione decided she would pretend not seeing them, as she didn't realize she had until that moment.

"You know who else is here?" She whispered in Draco's ear nonchalantly.

"Who?" He whispered back, taking his eyes off the game.

"The Weasleys."

"I don't like sharing my air with them either, but there's nothing we can do about it." He grimaced.

Hermione sighed. "You know that's not what I mean." After a few minutes spent debating, she did something she'd never done before. She tried to flirt. Hell, Daphne seemed to get away with it when Theo wasn't listening to her – which was pretty often – so maybe so could she. Getting closer to Draco, she slipped her hand out of his and put it on his thigh, feeling her face redden. "Perhaps I could come back to the Manor and I'll make it up to you," she muttered, trying to sound seductive. She didn't know whether it was working, but she surely couldn't help feeling a bit stupid for trying.

"Tempting," Draco bit his lower lip and smirked. He rested his hand on hers, still on his thigh, and intertwining their fingers. "But no." He kissed her neck subtly and chuckled.

Hermione sighed, annoyed, and turned back to the game. Was she doing it wrong? She could still see his grin from the corner of her eye, so she wasn't sure.

Three long hours later, France's Seeker finally caught the Snitch, after almost falling from his broom and potentially getting himself killed. As she felt her Mark burn, Hermione tried to remain as still as possible and she saw Draco stare at her, her hand still in his. She put her cloak back on and none of them said a word, he just side-Disapparated her behind some stairs near the last row of the highest gallery, waiting for the VIPs to be out of sight

"Do you think he wants to attack tonight?" He asked.

"No, he would have let us know." She looked at the unsurprisingly cloudy sky and sighed. "I think he just wants to send a message."

Draco nodded absently and then pointed his wand at the sky. " _Morsmorde!_ Let's get out of here." As they both watched the Dark Mark rise among the clouds and heard the terror that caused, Draco slipped an arm around her hips and drew her to him. "Are you alright?"

Hermione smiled at that. "I'm just bored to death," she chucked, trying to lighted the mood. He caught her hint and chuckled back at her.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad. I mean, it didn't last as long as I would have liked it to, but you don't let a Snitch slip away just so the game can be longer." With their hands still locked, he guided her down the stairs

"It lasted three hours. It was more than enough," she complained.

While they kept climbing down, more and more people were running towards the nearest exit and pointing at the Dark Mark shining in the sky, panicking. Hermione saw the Weasleys just as they got to the front gate, and had a feeling her night was about to go from bad to even worse. She tried to pretend she hadn't seen them, but Mr. Weasley clearly thought otherwise.

"Hermione, it's nice to see you, even if in the wrong company," he said, stopping right in front of her, and she could endure his presence, really, even Ginny's, if she had to, but not the twins. The twins that had kept her alive and laughing even when the O.W.L.s had almost got her to the Medical Wing, studying day and night. The thought of the both of them dead she couldn't endure.

"I believe I'm old enough to choose my own friends, Mr. Weasley, but thanks for the concern," Hermione replied, cold.

"You couldn't be less of a bitch even if you tried, could you?" Ginny snorted, earning himself a glance of warning from her father.

"Why don't you wait for me to do something really horrible, before judging me?" Hermione twisted her head to the side, looking at her and trying to understand how much she knew.

"Like putting the Dark Mark in the sky? Or killing Eric and his girlfriend?" Ginny scoffed in disbelief, a bitter note in her voice.

Hermione found herself pleasantly surprised Zabini had told them what happened. She felt Draco's hand tighten around her and almost smiled. "I killed none of them!" She said. "Eric choked his girlfriend to death and killed himself as soon as he managed to get his hands on a wand."

"He killed her because of _your_ Imperius."

"Yet, I did not kill her," Hermione repeated. "I don't get my hands dirty if I can make others do that for me, Ginny. Care to tell how you even know about Eric? I didn't tell you, for sure, but I bet _he_ did."

Blaise was quite literally the only chance they would have of knowing what was going on inside the Manor, unless Snape had told them.

"Why haven't you turned him in yet?" Mr. Weasley asked and she smirked.

"Because it suits me."

Ginny shook her head and Disapparated, quickly followed by her father, whose only goodbye to her was a sad grimace.

Draco took a few steps towards the exit and she turned around to follow him, but someone grabbed her arm, pulling both of them to a stop. Fred Weasley was smiling at her, as was his brother. Hermione smiled back slightly.


	11. Old friend

As there were only two days of holiday left, Hermione was sitting on a couch in the sitting room, reading her mother's old Jane Eyre copy. A few minutes earlier, Draco had thrown himself on her like she was part of the furniture as well and now he was staring at her from her lap. She just ignored him.

"I'm bored," he complained after a while.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Do your homework."

"To get even more bored?" he took her book and giggled as she snorted.

"What do you want me to tell you?" he put the book on the coffee table next to them and she started playing with his hair.

He was about to answer, but the flames in the fireplace turned green as Daphne burst in.

"I don't care what you're doing, I'm tired of being stuck at home because of the damn weather," she started. Hermione raised her eyebrow and she took it as a sign to continue chartering their lives. "I want to do something different, something muggle."

And then it was her turn to be surprised. "What do you mean, something muggle?"

"Well, I don't know. What do Muggles do this time of the year?" clearly, she hadn't thought the details out.

"What wizards do too. It's Christmas, they party and go on holiday," she shrugged.

"But we don't have time to go on holiday, the school starts in two days," Draco said, although she knew he didn't really care about that.

"Have you ever tried an egg roll?" Hermione smirked. Their faces confirmed that they did not, in fact, have the slightest idea what an egg roll was. "Looks like we found something muggle to do, then. I don't think we have enough time to fly to China though, but there's this adorable Chinese restaurant in London we can go to."

"Wait, let me get this straight. Muggles have found a way to actually roll an egg?" Daphne asked.

Hermione just stared at her for a few seconds, speechless. _"No."_

Once they got Theo as well, Hermione decided they would take the tube, in accordance with their desire to have a _muggle experience._ Theo, who almost exposed them when a child tripped and fell on him in the tube and – still pretty nervous for the not even half-an-hour-long trip in which they could have died and he wouldn't get the glorious end a Slytherin deserved – he pointed his wand at the poor boy's throat.

It took Hermione a good ten minutes to convince him Theo was just playing, but that didn't spare either of them a glare from his mother for scaring her son.

After that, Daphne almost had a panic attack when they first stopped to let people out, a jump from Draco when an advertising monitor had been turned on, since he didn't understand how Muggles could talk and live inside a box, and then the Same Draco that, leaning on one of the doors, almost fell out when they opened – once again, without the glorious end a Slytherin deserved.

Of course, it may look funny from the outside, but Hermione didn't really feel the funny vibe, not after all the times they risked exposure.

Once they got to the restaurant safe and sound, she had to admit the situation was getting hilarious, though, and she often found herself suppressing a laugh – more to sympathy towards the waiter, who probably couldn't understand what was wrong with her friends.

The moment she got the change in the atmosphere was when they read the menu.

She was pretty surprised honestly that Draco, Theo and Daphne didn't seem to be too reluctant to eat in a muggle restaurant, let alone a Chinese one. They didn't even try to use the chopsticks to hex someone, which was actually impressive.

She didn't really expect them to act almost as impeccably – apart from the various hiccups – as someone who hadn't been brought up to hate Muggles, but she could still see the startles when someone walked past their table or the waiter came with their orders, like they were permanently on the guard or wary of whomever wasn't their very own shadow.

They got back to Malfoy Manor – she and Draco – and Nott Manor – Daphne and Theo – by Floo, after a quick trip to the Ministry, hours later.

Once they got back to Hogwarts, Hermione was in an unusually good mood. Mood that Ginny Wesley thought it was appropriate to kill before she could even eat her breakfast, while she and Draco were walking past the "good" section of the table, formed by Ginny, Luna, Neville, Seamus and Laurel Drake – who she learnt was Neville's girlfriend, Gryffindor.

"What's that, Granger, killing innocent people puts in you in a good mood?" she asked.

"It usually does," she teased, "but I have no idea what you're talking about."

Draco put a hand on her lower back and she could hear the deafening silence around them.

"You know perfectly well what I'm talking about. You killed Hannah!"

No, she wanted to say. She didn't kill anyone, for a change. Especially not Hannah Abbott, Hufflepuff.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Wesley. We're at wat, people die. Deal with it," she said instead, and walked to the seats Daphne had saved them, sitting next to Pansy freaking Parkinson.

"Hermione, did you?" Daphne whispered.

 _"No,"_ she said, maybe a little too loud. "I didn't even know she was dead. I suppose _something_ happened while we were out."

§§§

None of them mentioned the Ginny incident or the Order for about two weeks and even then, Hermione was kind of forced to think about it. She still saw Neville and the others glaring at her in the hallways, but she didn't think they would go this far…

 _…Calling him at Hogwarts!_

She found out what they did on a Saturday afternoon, while she was waiting for Daphne to go to Hogsmeade together in the Clock Tower Courtyard, after having left her room later than she would usually do, fully aware of her friend's concept of punctuality.

Hermione only had to wait ten minutes for Daphne to arrive, running up to her apologizing and repeating it was Theo's fault, which she doubted – her boyfriend, unlike her, had never left her waiting and actually knew what a clock was for –, but then she stopped talking, staring at something over Hermione's shoulder like she had just seen the Dark Lord himself. She tried getting something out of her, attempting to at least understand if she had been hit with a non-verbal spell or something, but Daphne only kept looking behind her.

A familiar voice was calling her name and as she turned around she found herself looking at a tall, muscular body. She raised her eyes and he was staring at her, a smile on his lips. He still had the small beard he had grown by Fleur and Bill's wedding but his hair was longer. Viktor Krum was looking at her like he hadn't seen her in ages.

"Viktor! What are you doing here?" Hermione smiled and hugged him. She felt him all around her in what lasted more than a normal hug.

Then he turned towards her friend, without answering, "You Daphne, right?" she nodded. "You mind leave us alone?" the witch nodded again, staring at him adoringly, and disappeared in the hallway she had just came from.

"Wanna go for a walk?" she simply asked, deciding not to speak out her doubts, for now. She was happy to see him, of course, but he was a long way from Bulgaria, and it was starting to get fishy. Plus, maybe he would tell her himself and she wouldn't be the bad person who couldn't just accept a visit from an old friend without thinking there was some plot behind it.

So she locked her arm with his and started walking towards Hogsmeade, trying to ignore all the stares they were getting from people that – like her – couldn't understand why an international Quidditch star that lived several countries away, was there, with her, _at Hogwarts._

"How is things going? Hogwarts look different," he asked and she couldn't help but smile.

"It is different. Nothing too drastic, though, I think we can survive to some House unity." they kept talking till they got to the Three Broomsticks, where people _still_ eyes them pretty much tirelessly, but Viktor still hadn't said why he was there. Something was definitely up.

After having ordered two Butterbeers she murmured a quick _Muffliato_ , but Viktor preceded her and, as she was taking her coat off, the sleeves of her sweater pulled up to her elbows, exposing her Dark Mark. She didn't even notice, being used to it as she was, and when she looked at him, he was staring at it.

"You has mark like Karkaroff," he simply stated. Hermione prayed he didn't know its meaning and pulled her sleeves down, but she knew everyone in the Wizarding World, no matter how far from the action they were, had heard the story at least one.

She just nodded and thanked Madam Rosmerta for their drinks.

"What do it means?" he didn't even look at his Butterbeer while she was sipping hers, trying to get a hold of herself.

"It means a lot has happened, Viktor. It's complicated." she looked at her hands and cleared her throat.

"You explain?"

"Did they send you?" she asked instead.

"What?"

"Did the Order send you, Viktor?" he just stared at her, without hinting at a concrete answer. So that was it? Silence means consent?

Hermione lightly shook her head and put her coat back on. Of course the bloody Order of the Phoenix would call him at Hogwarts. Of course they would just endanger someone innocent for the sake of their stupid means. Viktor Krum was their last, desperate chance.

She was about to get up and leave, but he took her hand. "Me is here because Order asked, it's true. But you is not like this, _Hermiun_." he was pale, downright upset.

"You people need to stop telling me who I am, Viktor. I am whoever I want to be, whether you like it or not, and I hope you're aware that the only reason I haven't hexed you yet it's because I've missed you, or you would be unconscious by now," she lightly smiled not to make it sound too much like a threat and he did the same.

"I do, really. I have everything under control and you guys need to start minding your own business. This is dangerous, not only for me, but for you. Death Eaters are used to the Order getting their way, but you're not a blood traitor and I would like it to stay this way." she sighed and saw him nod and look away from her. _Men._ Can't tell them what to do, or they will pout their feelings away and brag about how you stepped on their ego. "I'm serious, Viktor. They could kill you for getting into this mess and I need to know you're safe."

"I will stay out of it. Me missed you, _Hermiun._ "

"I missed you too. I'll see you soon, promise."

"You come see me at Quidditch? Next month is friendly England against Bulgaria." he looked at her hopefully and Hermione couldn't but smile and promise she would be there, confident Snape would let her go.

§§§

Once she was back in Hogwarts, after having walked Viktor out of Hogsmeade so he could Disapparate, Hermione was glad to notice she was just in time for lunch, and Daphne had saved her a seat next to her.

She didn't even get to sit, though, before Draco felt he needed to step in in what would have been the Daphne-Greengrass-monologue about how she needed to know everything that had happened. "Where were you?"

Hermione stared at him for a second, then turned around towards her giggling friend.

"Ignore him. How did it go?"

"Good, I think. How was it supposed to go?" she took off her coat and scarf and put them next to her on the bench, nodded back at Theo, next to Blaise, with a smile.

"Well, I mean, he's _Viktor Krum_. Any hot details?" she said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Draco cleared his throat, "I'm here, Daph. Thanks for the concern."

"Why should I care? You're just _friends_ , aren't you?" she didn't even wait for an answer and attacked her, asking why he wanted to be alone with her.

Hermione was perfectly aware she couldn't tell them the truth, so she decided to hide some part of it. "He just wanted to invite me to his match next month and give me the tickets."

"So it's a date?" she asked, excited, just as Draco asked what match she was talking about. Hermione could swear Daphne was about to stand up and start jumping and giggling, she just hoped that wouldn't be the case.

"The friendly, England-Bulgaria and, no, I am pretty sure it's not a date."

" _Pretty sure?_ Hermione, I saw the way he hugged you. There is no way in hell he just wants to be friends, so spill it."

"I'm _sure_ , alright? And I don't know what you're talking about, me and Viktor are just friends." she looked away and poured herself some pumpkin juice.

"And I'm pretty sure he wouldn't mind your definition of "friendship"," she smirked and eyed Draco, who answered with a non-verbal spell that literally made her hair stand on end and, as much as Hermione knew how important her hair was for Daphne, she had to admit she deserved it.

"Fine, I'm sorry." she quickly charmed her hair back in place. "But I don't agree with what you're doing and I think that-"

"You expressed your opinion, Daphne, enough," Draco interrupted her. His voice didn't leave any space for arguing and she seemed to get the message.

Hermione rolled her eyes and finally got a chance to eat. "So, did I miss out on anything important?"

"Just Filch threatening to skin Miles alive if he ever catches him in his office ever again," Draco laughed and elbowed the fellow Slytherin sitting next to him.

"Dude, that wasn't even my fault! He had confiscated my new Zonko stuff, I had to get it back." his laughter erased the fake serious tone he had started talking with.

Once lunch was over, Hermione had every intention of going back into the commons room and finish her homework, but that didn't really last much, since Draco decided they needed to talk.

"Draco, I said no. I need to finish my homework, don't be your spoiled, prattish self," she ignored him pulling at her hand and got back to reading.

"I am not a spoiled prat," he protested, although they both knew he was.

"We can talk about that later as well, leave me alone."

"It's Saturday, you have two whole days to study, come on."

Hermione forced herself to put the wand she was exercising a Transfiguration spell with before she did something impulsive, like curse him by mistake. "Fine, what's so important you can't wait a few hours to tell me?"

"You and Krum, that's what. The whole school is talking about it, they saw you together at Hogsmeade."

"I hope you're joking," she scowled at him and prayed for her mental health he really was.

"I'm not joking. He comes here, out of the blue, and demands you go to his stupid game and go out with him, who does he think he is?" when she noticed his voice had got loud enough for nearby people to hear, she snorted and pulled him into her room, murmuring a spell so her books would follow them. She was about to throw him into the room just to make him shut up, while he was still rambling something about Viktor.

"Who do _you_ think you are? You're making a scene for nothing, just because a _friend_ passed by and we spent some time together. Yes, we went to Hogsmeade and yes, we stopped by the Three Broomsticks and yes, Draco, I will go to his game because I can and I want to go. I don't care this doesn't suit your oh-so-precious wishes, I will not give up seeing him just because you don't like this. Have I made myself clear?" Hermione was outraged. Maybe Viktor didn't exactly come to Hogwarts to have a Butterbeer with her like nothing was up, but that wasn't the point. She would not hug one of her friends goodbye because bloody Draco Malfoy said so.

"He doesn't look at you as a friend, and you know it." of course she knew, but that didn't mean she would admit it to him.

 _Deny the facts, Hermione._

"Yes, he does. We're friends and I don't care what you have to say about it, end of the discussion."

She could clearly see he wasn't okay with any of that, but she refused to cut Viktor out of her life because of his jealousy attacks, or whatever that scene was all about.

They just glared at each other for a few seconds, each trying to get the other to come to the conclusion that they were right. Then he just turned around and slammed the door on his way out.

She decided he could be a spoiled prat for as long as he wished, she wouldn't let him win that one.


	12. Eastwards

Hermione and Draco didn't talk for the following week unless forced to. Daphne and Theo had more or less understood what was going on and did nothing to make the situation even worse. Daphne tried to distract them every chance she got, sometimes making sarcastic remarks that no one needed and that were supposed to be funny, but were really not.

On Thursday, while she was having lunch, Hermione was trying to make peace with the idea of the following double Potions with Draco, and Daphne Greengrass decided she wanted to make their day even better, letting her know that, once again, Jaime Knight was staring at her. Hermione repressed the impulse to roll her eyes and just ignored her, refusing to turn around and check whether her friend was telling the truth or not. She could, on the other hand, see Draco turn around and scowl at Daphne after hearing her comment.

She decided to take her time walking to the dungeons, so she had a little more time to wrap her head around the idea of being forced to interact with Draco for the following two hours, but mere minutes later she felt like she was being followed. At first she let it go, since it could be a student that, like her, didn't want to have to run to class, but when she noticed that, two hallways later, they were still following her, Hermione stopped and turned around, pointing her wand at her follower's throat, whom she found out to be none other than Jaime Knight, Slytherin.

His eyes widened and stared at her half scared and half curious.

"You have ten seconds to tell me why you were following me before I decide to ignore every single rule about attacking another student," she stated, unmoving.

The boy gasped and she heard Snape call her name.

"Miss Granger, what are you doing?"

With a grudging look, she lowered her wand and turned around.

"Obtaining answers."

"You're aware that being a Death Eater does not authorize you to kill another student, aren't you?" The Headmaster was looking at her quite amused – as amused as Snape could ever be.

"I wouldn't have killed him. Maybe severely injured, but not killed him," she tried not to roll her eyes.

"Mr. Knight, don't you need to go to class?" He ignored her and addressed the Slytherin behind her, who nodded and quickly walked past them. "Miss Granger, you and Mr. Malfoy, and I am sure you will not divulge this information, are responsible for the planning of a welcome ball for the Durmstrang students that will get here on Saturday. I confide you will be discrete about this and, if I hear any rumors about the matter, I will know whose fault it is."

Durmstrang? Honestly? Snape clearly caught her confused look and rolled his eyes, but explained, "Not that it's any of your business, but the Dark Lord has recently requested Igor Karkaroff's presence and, as you know, he is the Headmaster of Durmstrang. Consequently, there's no reason why the Hogwarts students shouldn't merge with them and a few of their professors for a few days." His eyes were not disgusted, or bored, as he usually was when talking to her, so did he know about Viktor's visit? It was not impossible, after all, Filch wouldn't let anyone in without the Headmaster's approval, but did he know the motifs behind his visit?

Besides, Viktor Krum had come on the Order's behalf, Snape would have all the reasons to know about it. Since she'd learned that he was actually a member of the Order, Hermione didn't really know what to do with the information on a day-to-day basis, since he was so good at hiding things from everyone. He could be playing her, for all she knew.

Hermione had only recently learnt Viktor would be the new Quidditch instructor at Durmstrang, since he had already graduated, but one thing was for sure: Draco wouldn't like that. She told Snape she would get on the plans for the ball as soon as possible and hurried to the dungeons. Every single time she thought she could have a nice, quiet day, there just had to be something to prove her wrong.

Once she got to class, answered Slughorn's greeting, sat down and took a deep breath, she opened her book, looking for a way to could tell Draco so that he wouldn't make a scene. Easier said than done.

Not even a minute later, he sat down next to her and shrugged his bag off on the ground without paying much attention to it, asking her what Snape wanted, claiming he had seen them _confabulate_ in the hallway.

"He just wanted to tell me we have to plan a ball for Sunday night."

"A ball? Why? There's nothing to celebrate, it's January." He surely wasn't thick, she knew that well.

"Dark Lord's orders."

"What does he even care about a stupid ball? What's going on?" He was starting to get annoyed.

"If I tell you, promise you won't make a scene about it in front of everyone." She cast a spell, just in case, so others couldn't hear them. He nodded. "The Dark Lord wants to see Karkaroff." Hermione was really hoping he would understand the implications of that without having to say it out loud.

Clearly, he didn't. "So what? Karkaroff can't dignify us with this presence without a ball in his honor?"

"Igor Karkaroff is Headmaster to Durmstrang, Draco."

He sat perfectly still for a moment. "Are you trying to tell me his bloody students will be here as well?"

She nodded. "His students and a couple of professors, among which there will be the Quidditch instructor. I am sure you know what this means." When she saw him about to get up and take his wand out, she caught his wrist and threatened to hex him before he could even say his name. "This is confidential news, Draco. Don't you dare tell anyone, or Snape will have our heads."

His calm façade only lasted for the time they were in the classroom and she was certain he would explode before they even got to dinner. Hermione sighed and packed her bag as well, ignoring the looks she was getting because of Draco storming off the dungeons.

While she was walking back to the common room, Hermione kept her mind busy with the planning of the damn ball. She had to look for a band or something like that, organize the disposition of the Great Hall and somehow inform the students they would have to invite someone by Sunday night so no one would be without a date last-minute. Then, talk to the Elves about food and drinks, ask Snape if they should be alcohol and find enough teachers willing to patrol and overwatch everything so there wouldn't be incidents among the students. And it was already Thursday afternoon. There were tons of things to do and way too little time.

Her torment would only last until Saturday, when, as Hermione was running through the castle making sure everything was perfect and would go as planned, she was told the Durmstrang students would arrive by dinner. Besides the fact that the Dark Lord would be present at the ball for at least some minutes, just to make sure Karkaroff would come, instead of running as he did after the Tournament.

Hermione suspected Lord Voldemort's call had something to do with the episode, but she didn't have time to think, she had to make sure everything was going as planned.

That morning, at breakfast, McGonagall had announced the ball, although she didn't mention the motive as to preserve the _surprise effect_. Everyone had, of course, embraced the enthusiastic atmosphere. She could only hope for the best.

§§§

"Will you two leave me alone?" Draco almost growled.

Ever since they got to know about the stupid ball, Daphne and Theo wouldn't leave him alone. He wanted nothing to do with that nonsense, everything because Igor damn Karkaroff couldn't bring his precious ass to Hogwarts without a ball in his honor. Plus, he had found out the Bulgarians would stay for another week, attending class with them.

In the last two days, he had been forced to admit to Daphne he was jealous sick. Not being publicly together with Hermione was ridiculous, especially because of people like bloody Viktor Krum, who just stormed off to Hogwarts first chance he got, went out with Granger and asked her to his bloody match, which he hated to admit he'd love attending.

Now he would be back, after not even two weeks, and demand she goes with him to the bloody ball and, like that wasn't enough, Daphne wouldn't leave him the fuck alone.

 _You need to talk_ , she said. _You have to invite her before someone else does_ , she insisted. And she always concluded her monologues with, _if you dare to even scowl at whoever invites her before you do, I will hex you senseless._

He was tired.

"Come on, man, you know what's gonna happen if you don't move your lazy ass," Theo said. "Hermione's hot _and_ smart, someone will invite her, she will say yes and then _we'll_ have to endure you bragging about it."

Of course that's how it would go. Bloody Viktor Krum was coming and he would invite her, and Draco would spend the night trying not to send any Unforgivables his way. The was a pretty easy solution, though: invite Granger to the ball. But, of course, he couldn't do that. That would mean admitting he was wrong and he could allow no such thing to happen. He was a Malfoy, damn it!

"Don't you dare. I know what you're thinking and I _forbid you_ to think it," Daphne hissed.

"You _forbid_ me to think, Greengrass, really?" He snorted.

She merely ignored him. "I will not let your stupid I'm-a-Malfoy ego come before Hermione, you hear me? Now man your spoiled ass up and go invite her to the damn ball."

Daphne was pointing her perfectly manicured finger in his face like he was a child and like she always did when she felt he needed to get things spelt out for him, because _you're a man and you just don't get it._ Theo was just grinning at him like the jerk he was from across the room.

He knew perfectly well he had to apologize, but he refused to admit he was wrong, because, obviously, he wasn't. Krum _did_ see her like more than just a friend, but he still refused to admit he was jealous. He couldn't be jealous, it didn't make sense. She was a Mudblood and he just didn't… He didn't even know what he was thinking. Draco had seen her bleed several times and her blood had always been just like his.

While Daphne was still lecturing him, he could only think about what he could do to figure things out. Granger had been clear, she wouldn't let him win that one. So what was he supposed to do? The Durmstrang students would arrive that same night and with them, bloody Viktor Krum.

They arrived a few minutes before dinner, Draco was already glaring at everyone and everything as Karkaroff entered the Great Hall, along with his students.

The murmuring had started as soon as they stepped in, realizing what the ball was all about. Daphne was staring at the Bulgarians open-mouthed and he saw Theo grit his teeth in acknowledgement. Clearly, he understood what – better yet, _whom_ – his problem was.

He was struggling to keep his expression as blank as possible when he saw Krum smile at Hermione and her smiling right back.

Snape gave the welcome speech for Durmstrang and announced the subdivision of the students would be, just like at Hogwarts, based on the year.

That meant bloody Viktor Krum would stay in the staff dorms, being a teacher and all that, but all the other seventh year students would be in the dungeons, merely doors away from Granger.

That was going to be a rough night.

Damn dinner and damn ball and damn bloody Viktor Krum and damn Karkaroff, who could have deigned to come to the Dark Lord _alone_. And damn Granger for being so bloody nice all the time.

He ate close to nothing, repeatedly asking the charmed glasses that were supposed to automatically refill that night Firewhisky, with no success. Bloody Elves who followed Snape's bloody orders. Besides that, he couldn't leave early, since apparently it was a synonym for disrespect. Perfect night, really.

When they finally finished dinner, as Theo had forced him to stay at the table not to do something impulsive, he saw Granger talk to Krum not even far from them, although it was clear she was in a hurry, for some reason. So he just sat there and eavesdropped, grateful neither of them had cast a privacy spell.

"Me missed you," he said, hugging her, and Draco heard her laughter.

"I missed you too, though it's not been that much time since our last encounter."

"Speaking of ball-" Krum didn't get a chance to finish what would have most definitely been an invitation as McGonagall approached the two, calling Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Viktor, I have to check everything is in order for tomorrow, if anything goes wrong I may seriously hurt someone." She didn't even let him answer, she just stormed off to McGonagall, waiting for her at the entrance of the Great Hall.

First time ever he was actually grateful to the old cow and it looked like Theo was glad as well, since he knew he would have to be the one listening to him complaining for weeks, if Granger actually agreed to go to the ball with Krum.

Well, it was time to get some use of the privileges being a Malfoy brought.

§§§

Once she was finally allowed to get back to her room, after checking everything was going right as planned, she just let herself fall onto the bed, without worrying about anything that wasn't her pillow. As comfortable as her bad was, though, Hermione decided she didn't want to sleep in her uniform, so she got up and changed, then noticed the big, emerald box on her desk.

Hermione opened the package, wondering how on earth it even got to her room, after making sure it wasn't hexed or something. She only found a black formal dress, simple but with a golden metal snake replacing the fabric on the, making the dress completely backless. The snake was tied to the rest of the dress with tiny golden chains and there was a piece of parchment inside.

 _Will you go to the ball with me?_

 _D.M._

No greeting, no apology, nothing. Just the invitation. Although, she knew him by now and was pretty sure that had cost him a lot, since he was probably still convinced he was right. Hermione smiled and looked at the dress, so Slytherin it was an explicit invitation to be worn by Draco's side.

She heard knocking and she honestly didn't know what else to expect, but she found it was only Daphne, smirking at her.

"What's going on?"

"Viktor was looking for you, I told him you were still with McGonagall. You're welcome." She leaned on the doorframe and smirked. Honestly, did all Slytherins do that?

"Why did you do that? It could have been important." She was about to go look for him, but she stopped her as she saw the dress on her bed.

"What's that?"

That was how Hermione knew there was no way she would let her go. "The dress for the ball," she unwillingly answered and patiently waited for her friend to calm down. When she suddenly grabbed her shoulders, staring at her, Hermione knew the interrogation had officially begun. "Who? How? When?" Daphne shoved her to the side and stormed into her room. _Great_.

Hermione sighed and closed the door. That was going to be a rough night.

"Daph, can you tone it down a littel?"

"No, I cannot. It's bad enough you didn't tell me the Durmstrang fellows were coming, now be a good friend and tell me everything." She sat on her bed and stared at the dress in awe.


	13. Masquerade

The big day had come. Hermione had woken up in panic, worried everything would be a disaster and it would be her fault. Oh, right, and the Dark Lord would stop by. And she hadn't spoken to Draco about the ball yet. Just great. It would be a disaster.

That was what Daphne found her like, silently panicking about everything that could – and most probably would – go wrong.

"Give me one good reason you're still not ready for the big moment. It's almost seven and the ball starts at nine. You should know it, you planned it!" She almost shouted as she noticed Hermione was still in her uniform, after spending one hell of an oh-so-easy day running through the castle, making sure everything would be in order for the night. And Daphne felt, as usual, it was her duty to remind her what bad friend she had been, not telling her about the ball regardless of Snape's threats, because, "Events like these are worth way more than a few threats Snape didn't even mean." Hermione was pretty sure he meant every word.

"Because I didn't have time to get ready, nor I wanted to," she was forced to admit.

"What do you mean you didn't want to? You're going to the ball with Draco Malfoy!" She said, not only like it was something pretty obvious, but like it was the news of the year. Which it kind of was at Hogwarts, but still.

"Yes, Daphne, I know." She rolled her eyes and sat back on the bed.

"And why exactly aren't you jumping and grinning like everyone else would?"

Hermione refused to answer that.

"Stop ignoring me and get ready, we're wasting valuable time here."

She all but grunted and felt Daphne pull her up, ignoring her complaints, until she was sitting in the armchair near her desk.

"Daphne, in the name of everything that is holy, what are you doing?" Hermione complained, looking at the barbaric way Daphne just took her bag and turned it upside down on her desk, as a mix of potions and makeup fell out.

"I'm making getting you ready, since you're clearly not doing it by yourself anytime soon."

Hermione sighed and mentally prepared for a long evening. Daphne kept her in that damn chair for over an hour, Hermione rolled her eyes so many times by then she was almost sure they would fall out and Daphne complained every single time she did it. By the time she was done, Hermione didn't even recognize herself, looking in the mirror.

That wasn't the same, light Hermione, the one that had fought for her friends and made it into the Death Eaters to save Ron from a sociopath. She was… well, she couldn't find a word to describe herself that didn't include "dark" in the definition. A darker version of herself, with a pale, perfect skin the plum lipstick made even paler. Her hazel eyes never looked so big, complemented by the black and gold eyeshadow, and her hair was flawless, in a sober, wavy bun. The dress, long and black, fitted her body like a shadow, and the uncomfortable heels Daphne had forced her into made her unusually tall.

While she was still staring at the dark figure in the mirror, that almost didn't look like hers, Hermione felt like Daphne understood way too well the importance of that ball, not in honor of Karkaroff or as a mere cover for the Dark Lord's plans, but as a symbol of loyalty to him. Hermione constantly had to prove her loyalty and that change in the image everyone had of her would make an impression. She would be officially one of them, even in the looks.

Hermione turned around and hugged Daphne, positive she would understand, and she was left alone. She knew she had to get out of that damn room, she just couldn't find the will to. Looking back in the mirror, she thought about all the things she had done since she had joined the Death Eaters. Hermione would have never done those things, ever. The woman in the mirror, on the other hand, would do everything all over again.

She could have run, make sure no one would ever find her ever again. It was hard, of course, but not completely impossible. So why had she stayed?

For Draco? No. She had made the unconscious decision long before she actually began to care for him.

For Daphne? Neither. She had got close to her way after killing and torturing for him.

Then why? Was she really on her worst enemy's side, although unconsciously? She realized the change had been gradual, like falling asleep. After months and months, just at that moment, when any stranger would call her a Slytherin, looks and brains, she noticed the difference. What was it, loyalty? Obedience? She couldn't figure it out. It could be some sort of Stockholm Syndrome, she thought. She wasn't in love with the Dark Lord, obviously, but the syndrome actually entailed loyalty or complicity towards her captor, not necessarily love.

No, it couldn't be Stockholm Syndrome. She had always refused to believe it was actually a real thing and not just a myth in psychology books, but then what was it? She was reasonably sure no one had given her weird potions or hexed her. And now there she was, looking in the mirror, less than an hour away from a stupid ball her life could depend on and in the middle of an existential crisis. Great.

Hermione sighed and blackened the mirror with a spell, then turned around. When she saw a vial of Draught of Peace she had taken from the Hospital Wing on her night-table she took it without a second thought and drank every sip of it. It took a few minutes to start working, but then she immediately felt better, all the problems leaving her mind and her body relaxing. There was just nothing better she could ask for.

With her hand on her mouth to keep herself from screaming it all out, she felt someone touching her shoulder. Hermione jumped and turned around, wand in hand, but found out it was only Draco.

"Are you okay? I knocked, you didn't hear me?"

He had knocked? She just nodded and put her wand back in her black clutch.

"Are you sure you're okay? It feels like I'm talking to you and you're not even here. I'd say you're high, but I know you're not the type," he smirked and she smiled in response. Gods, had she missed him. "Though, I suppose the Draught of Peace isn't that far from it."

Hermione looked at him and found no trace of judgement on his face. He understood.

Smiling, she just took his hand. "I can't believe I'm saying this, since I have to put up with your ego every day, but you're quite the view tonight." To be completely honest, Draco was always handsome, no matter what he was wearing, but he didn't need to hear her say it out loud.

Draco grinned and let his hand wander around her bare back. "You're quite the view yourself, Granger. This dress all but screams that you're mine and I can't help but love it."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you do. I want your word that you will not even as much as point your wand at Viktor tonight."

He sighed and pretended to be hurt, the drama queen. "Why are you ruining the moment?"

"I want your word," she smiled and ran her hand through his hair. He eventually nodded, visibly trying to comply with her request without complaining about it.

"Come on, it's about to start and you have to be there for the Dark Lord's arrival."

Hermione could only hope for the best.

Almost everyone was already there by the time the entered the Great Hall. Hermione knew perfectly well not everyone was as used to the Dark Lord as they were, and the students had probably arrived way earlier than they had to just to make sure they wouldn't be late.

The Great Hall was glowing, silver and emerald decorations were everywhere and the sky was unsurprisingly cloudy. There was now a buffet where the staff's table usually stood and Draco didn't fail to repeat his complaints about the lack of alcohol. She had asked Snape, but he said he spent quite a few years being responsible for everything the Slytherin House did, so his answer would have to be no.

When the ball properly began she couldn't not notice the stares, certainly not for lack of trying. She knew the dress Draco gave her drew quite the attention, but there was just so much she could do.

She was too distracted to actually listen to Theo and Draco's conversation, although they _had_ tried to get her to commit to it so she could decide who was right.

"C'mon, Hermione, tell him!" Theo complained.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "When will you understand that I do not give a damn what broom is better?"

"How can you-" Theo started, but stopped his rambling about what she knew was something having to do with how much broomsticks were important in Quidditch and just stared at something behind her. As she felt Draco's arm tighten around her waist, she knew Viktor was probably standing right there. And there he was, with an amused smile on his lips, asking her to dance.

She turned to leave a kiss on Draco's cheek as warning and smiled at her friend, following him on the dancefloor. "I'd be honored."

"You is beautiful," Viktor told her, and Hermione was sure she could feel some warmth on her cheeks. Every time she moved, Hermione could feel the cold, golden snake on her back and remind her how important that stupid ball actually was.

§§§

Draco was in the entrance courtyard with Daphne and Theo, who weren't making him feel any better. He left the Great Hall to take some air after bloody Viktor Krum had asked Granger to dance and she obviously accepted.

He was sick of that story. He had thought he could do it, keep on that farce with being just friends in public and all the bullshit. He had been sitting there for some good ten minutes already, along with the happy couple that was trying to get him to calm down. He was pretty sure they were utterly failing.

As he heard both of them shut up, he knew Granger was back from the stupid dance with Krum and Daphne and Theo left them alone.

Hermione sat next to him and sighed. "Draco, we've talked about this."

"I know, alright?" he forced out. "It's not your fault."

"It is." she put her clutch down and crossed her legs, which she tended to do when she was nervous. He just kept staring at the lake.

"I'm not angry, if that's what you're worried about. _He's_ not the problem. It's more like _they're_ the problem, really."

"We've already talked about Viktor, there's nothing going on. And who are they?"

"The blokes looking at you the way I should be allowed to look at you in public." useless blokes whose lives he would gladly end, he wanted to add, but it didn't really look like the right moment to do so.

"We've talked about this," she repeated, her voice low. It was difficult to get the words out. "I thought you were okay with it and, quite frankly, you're the only one who sees these guys. Almost everyone here's a Pureblood or something very close to it, they would never look at me like that."

"Please," he snorted, "There are only very few people like that at school. Not everyone is so disgusted by Muggle-borns as my aunt is, most of them pretend they are in order to stay alive. And yes, I thought I would be okay with it, and I was clearly wrong."

She sighed and turned towards him, even if he still wouldn't look at her. "Draco, I can't afford to lose you, whatever the reason is. You know perfectly well I couldn't forgive myself if anything happened to you because of me."

He tried not to let the pain in her voice affect him.

"We can take care of ourselves. _I_ can take care of myself," he spat out.

"I'm not taking the chance." she shook her head.

"So what, you plan on avoiding any type of relationship for the rest of your life?"

"I'm not saying this."

"Yes, you are. Daphne, Theo, hell, even Blaise, and you never stopped being their friend because of the Dark Lord."

"I'm not friends with Blaise," she snorted.

"Really? Then why haven't you turned him in yet?" he laughed at the thought and she glared at him.

"This is not the point."

"Then what is? We are nothing because you think the Dark Lord will kill me, period." and he could barely say that out loud with a straight face.

"Look, I don't know how to deal with this, alright? I have no clue, Draco." she got up and, quite annoyed he wouldn't look at her, she stood in front of him.

"I do. Let it go, Granger. I can take care of myself. He cannot afford to lose you, he can't hurt us. He knows perfectly well if he were to kill any of us you wouldn't be on his side anymore and he can't risk you walking around free, spilling his secrets. You're not stupid, you know this already, so what's stopping you?" he stood up as well and almost laughed. That was not the day Hermione Granger would answer his questions without making more doubts pop up in his mind.

She hesitated for a moment, then stared at him arms-crossed. "I'm scared, okay? I don't know how any of this will turn up, I'm used to planning every single thing so I can have control on everything, make sure it all goes the way it's supposed to without surprises of any kind. But I have no control over us and it freaks me out."

He knew of her obsessive mania to plan everything and organize every aspect of her life, obviously, but he had no idea that could actually affect her so much. He never thought _that_ would be the problem.

Draco took her hand and drew her into his arms, feeling the bare skin of her back under his hands. "I will not let this end with my head on a spike."

"Guys, sorry to interrupt, but the Dark Lord's here. Your presence is required." Theo was his serious self, as every time Voldemort was around. Draco sighed and touched Hermione's shoulder, so she would focus on him.

"Look at me, it will be fine. We can talk later, but I need you to focus now. The sooner we do this, the sooner we can leave." she nodded and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she looked at him she was absolutely indifferent, a stranger. Theo smiled at her and turned around.

"Hermione, my dear. And Mr. Malfoy as well. It's good to see you haven't killed each other." the Dark Lord was waiting for them at the entrance of the Great Hall.

"My Lord. My apologies, we were just outside taking a break." Hermione was the perfect Death Eater anytime he was around, he was used to it by now, but it was off to see her like that when merely minutes ago she was just a normal human being.

"Nothing's wrong, I hope."

"Nothing, my Lord."

"Good. Make sure everything is in order. Hermione, you have done a great job with the ball, Karkaroff if very pleased with it. I hope we can soon have an old friend back in our ranks." His red eyes were, as usual, blank.

"Of course, my Lord."

The party continued as she had planned it to, without too many problems, apart from a few students, like Theo – who she would deal with the next day – trying to sneak in Firewhisky.

After an awkward discussion with the Dark Lord and everyone staring at them, Hermione only lasted for other ten minutes before she decided she had had enough.

Draco didn't give her any particular problems either, even after seeing her with Viktor multiple times during the night, and she had been happy to verify that she hadn't seen two Zabinis in a while, which was reassuring, to say the least, for her already unstable mental health.

Hermione only allowed herself to breath when Draco approached her to get back to the dungeons and let the Death Eater mask fall off.

After muttering the password to the common room, Hermione almost ran to her room, but Draco took her hand and shook his head, opening his door instead. If anyone had the brilliant idea to ruin her night, her room was precisely where they would look for her. The last thing either of them needed was a ginger-headed Weasley blaming Hermione for whoever the Dark Lord might have killed that night.

She let herself fall on the green silk sheets and sighed, looking at Draco undo his bow tie, leaning with one hand on the wall and staring into the depths of the lake.

Hermione took off the damn heels Daphne had given her and untied her hair, leaving her clutch on the desk, then finally walking towards him.

"I'm not a bloody child, Granger," he sighed.

"I've never say you were."

"Yes, you did. I've been in the game since the day I was born, don't come tell me I can't protect myself."

"I'm not saying that, Draco, but it's dangerous, and you know it."

"Dangerous for who?" He confronted her, his anger quite clearly a shadow on his features. "For you or for me? Because I've been risking my life for the last eight years of my existence, since Potter walked into the Great Hall and the bloody Hat put him in Gryffindor." Draco looked like he wanted to punch someone, most likely Harry, and wasn't even looking at her anymore.

"What do you expect me to do?"

"I expect you drop this nonsense, Granger. You can't live like this forever."

"You're underestimating me, Malfoy. I can assure you, I can," she snorted. She had given up her parents when the war started, believing it would be forever, and she still couldn't entirely have them back. She could give up anything, by that point.

"You're just that selfish, aren't you?"

"That's not true," Hermione whispered, hurt.

"Isn't it? Who are you thinking about right now? Yourself. You only think about yourself." Draco was still staring at the lake, doing everything not to look at her.

"For the last time, what do you want me to do?"

"You already have my answer. I know you need to control everything, but you can't always plan your life away. Let me deal with this, for once," he whispered and turned around.

Hermione hesitated and just stared at him for a few seconds, then took a deep breath to calm herself down. "I swear, if you let anything happen to you, I will kill you myself."

Draco closed his eyes at that and smiled. "I won't, I promise," he whispered, drawing her near.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. You need to trust me, Hermione."

"I trust you," she admitted, and was sure that was the truth.

"I know this goes against every cell in your body, but it will be fine."

Hermione smiled and kissed him back.

"Did I mention how gorgeous you are in this dress?" He chuckled and kissed her neck, his hands under the snake on her back.

"Why do I get the feeling you don't like the dress as much as the idea me in it?" She laughed and started unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"That's a minor detail."

The next day, Hermione woke up because of the tickling on her shoulder and found it was only Draco's breath. She stirred and pulled the duvet up to her chin, trying to make the moment last a little longer. Turning around, she looked at the man next to her, tempted to touch those beautiful traits he usually kept behind a mask and that, on a random Sunday morning, were relaxed and quite adorable, if she had to be honest.

"You're staring," he suddenly murmured.

His sleepy voice made her smile. "I'm not."

"Are too." Draco drew her closer and yawned.

"Should we go to breakfast?"

"Nope."

Hermione was about to answer, but a loud knocking stopped her. For some reason, Theo was demanding they opened.

"Go talk to him, or he won't go away." She laughed at his annoyed expression and leaned in to kiss him, "Good morning."

"Theo, it's Sunday," he almost growled, opening the door.

"I don't give a damn it's Sunday, I need you. Now. Nice to see you, Hermione."

"Likewise."

She put her dress back on while the boys murmured and whispered about whatever the hell they were planning and left Draco's room to get changed.

§§§

Draco Malfoy couldn't make out if Theo was just bored out of his mind or if he plain enjoyed ruining his day.

They were walking to the Great Hall for breakfast after he'd ruined his morning in bed with his witch, and Theo was blabbering since.

"Remind me again why you couldn't ask Granger."

"Because she would tell her, and it wouldn't be much of a surprise, now would it?" He answered like he was talking to a child.

Draco rolled his eyes and sat next to her.

"A birdie told me you slept together." Daphne Greengrass turned towards him and he smirked.

"Is that birdie's name Theo?" Hermione asked without as much as looking at her, reading the Prophet.

"No, that birdie's name is intuition. Anything interesting you would like to tell me?"

Draco suppressed a laugh as Daphne grinned at Hermione. "Oh, don't ask her, I'm in charge now. You see, Hermione here has agreed to let me handle things from now on."

Daphne just gaped at him for a few seconds. "Have you put her under the Imperius Curse?"

"Yeah, I should be that lucky," Hermione answered. "My brain is begging me to know this won't be a disaster."

"Well, tell your brain I'm done having my life planned out by it." Draco stole her toast and poured himself some water.

"I said I'd let you be in control, not that I'd like it," she glared at the stolen toast.

"This looks more like a therapy session than a couple having breakfast," Daphne pointed out.

"I'd rather look like I'm in therapy and actually manage to have breakfast, than be like you and Theo," he just murmured.

"Me and Theo what?"

"Do you see yourselves?" Hermione stared at them, quite amused, sipping her coffee. "Plus, it's Sunday, we should have fun. What do you want to do?" She turned to Draco and smirked, vaguely planning her day.

"Why do I feel like you already have an idea?" He smirked.

"We could go to Hogsmeade and disappear for a while," she proposed.

"Wait, what is she talking about?" Daphne interrupted.

"I miss Diagon Alley, I'm dying for some ice cream."

"I like the sound of that," Draco smirked and handed her the last piece of the toast he had stolen.

"What? You can't go to Diagon Alley!" Daphne looked outraged, for some reason. But then again, she was Daphne, so they didn't really ask.

"You're right," she reflected. "Everyone would recognize us there. How about muggle London? We can have lunch there and be back for dinner." The idea popped into her head as soon as Daphne spoke.

"Muggle London, where no one knows who we are," Draco said and grinned. He could see where that conversation was headed. No one that could possibly know who they were and no Viktor Krum pissing on his parade.

§§§

Seeing Draco among Muggles was hilarious. He kept trying not to accidentally touch anyone or anything, moving when someone walked too close to him and growling whenever he couldn't avoid someone bumping into his shoulder or arm while walking. He only relaxed when they managed to found a relatively quiet bench in St James' Park, though he kept glaring at the ducks around them with suspicion.

"Calm down, they're not going to hurt you. They're used to tourists and they just want you to give them something to eat," Hermione explained, quite amused.

"Vile creatures," he snorted and looked around, then eventually leaned into the bench and circled her shoulders with his left arm, sighing. "At least there's something good in this awful city full of Muggles and animals."

"And what would that be?" She smiled and leaned into him.

He caressed her cheek and leaned in to kiss her. "No one knows us."

Hermione smiled into the kiss and tugged his coat to draw him closer.


	14. Exhausting

Draco and Hermione's lunch consisted of take-away fish and chips eaten in a small, semi-deserted park. They'd just kept wandering around the city without a proper destination, between stolen kisses and Draco slamming into a phone booth in a moment of utter confusion after a pigeon had landed onto his head – which had been hilarious, to say the least.

Being away from the Wizarding world gave her a sense of peacefulness she hadn't been able to find anywhere lately. No one knew them there, they didn't have to worry about the war, she didn't have to be a murderer, there were no Death Eaters.

She knew that, once they were back in Hogwarts, she could pretty much expect a week of faking and scowling around, with Karkaroff so near, and she couldn't afford the slightest mistake. No contacts with anyone who didn't belong in Slytherin, nothing that could look suspicious. To make it quick, she would have to be the perfect Death Eater for a week, an unusual addition to her school schedule.

It was the first time since the beginning of her seventh year she didn't want to go back to school. She had to, though. Hermione couldn't just disappear without the Dark Lord commanding every Death Eater under his control to find her, no matter the cost.

As soon as Draco and Hermione landed right outside Hogsmeade's borders, they found a furious Daphne Greengrass waiting for them.

"What were you thinking?" Daphne almost screamed.

"I didn't think you'd be this worried, _mom_." Draco shrugged off the snow from his coat.

"Daphne, there's really no need," Hermione chuckled, quite amused, and started walking back to the castle.

"There is a _great_ need. You leave me here, alone, trying to figure out something even remotely convincing to tell Snape in order to justify your absence and just disappear."

"It's fine, Daph, Snape won't kick us out of school just because of a walk in London."

It was odd how Hermione had reconsidered her priorities regarding rules in the past months, and gave up following every single one of them. Normally, she would have firmly refused to escape school for the weekend, but that part of her was long gone. She was too far lost to worry about Hogwarts rules.

She was a Death Eater, there was no way Snape was expelling her – her deepest fear as she was little. The mere thought of being expelled, losing everything, not studying at Hogwarts anymore, would have killed her at the time. She wouldn't give up magic for anything. Of course, things were different now. She knew no one could take away what she had learnt, no one could force her to leave – not until she would keep being at the Dark Lord's orders.

A hint of worry hit her as she asked herself whether Snape had told the Dark Lord about that little adventure of theirs, but, on the other hand, she still hadn't felt the Mark burn on her forearm and, if she were to believe the lack of Death Eaters, there was a good chance Snape had kept it to himself.

He did call them into his office as soon as they stepped foot in the castle though, Daphne next to them still mumbling something about how irresponsible they had been.

"You have ten seconds to tell me where you have been, before I make you regret ever leaving this castle," he greeted them without as much as looking up from the book he was reading.

Before Draco could open his mouth and say something they would both truly regret, Hermione sat down. "We were out for a walk, that's all."

"A five hours long walk?"

"Well, we did stop for lunch."

"And can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't report this to the Dark Lord?"

"We just went out for a walk, I don't see why the Dark Lord's time should be wasted on our weekend activities." Draco wore the same smirk he always had when he knew he had already won.

If Snape reported them and the Lord found out they were genuinely having a walk, he would get mad for wasting his time because of some teenagers' get-away to London.

§§§

As dinner was getting closer, Draco should have understood his day couldn't possibly end as good as it had started.

Bloody Viktor Krum had stolen Hermione from him to _talk_ about some bullshit of his. Only thing he knew for sure was he had already had enough of him and only two days had passed since he came in. Viktor Krum thought he could have everything just because, because he was rich and famous. He was just an arrogant Seeker, too full of himself and that didn't know when to leave it alone.

And, when he told Hermione, she laughed at him – _laughed at him!_ – and affirmed it was fascinating how he could see those things in Viktor, who she didn't think was an _arrogant Seeker, too full of himself and that doesn't know when to leave it alone,_ but couldn't see them in himself every day.

Draco was outraged, to say the least. He was in no way comparable to bloody Viktor Krum.

Unfortunately, he seemed to have made no progress whatsoever in getting Granger to stay away from Krum, and had a feeling he never would. His personal crusade against Viktor Krum wouldn't go well until _he_ made a bad move.

Besides, she was keen on spending time with him as the great friends they were and he found out through Daphne the two had stayed in contact since third year, with letters and all, since the bloody Yule Ball and that damn blue dress that fitted her so damn good. That had been one hell of a rough night for his ego. And Daphne even said he had invited her in Bulgaria for the summer! How she couldn't understand was just beyond him.

Theo and Daphne had had to endure, again, his bragging about how much he just couldn't stand Krum and how Hermione shouldn't spend all that time with him and he couldn't but feel greatly affronted when Daphne told him she and Krum were "a nice couple".

His own friend! His own friend he looked at as a sister ever since he could remember.

When he turned around to glare at the happy _couple_ and saw Krum kiss Granger's cheek before leaving, he thought he was just going to explode. Draco couldn't but hope that damn week ended as soon as possible, so Krum would bloody go back to Bulgaria and leave him the fuck alone.

As Hermione sat back next to him and leaned in to kiss him, he turned around and her lips only found his jaw. He answered his witch's amused look with a scowl out of sheer pettiness, making it clear he had no intention of talking to her and she could go back to Krum for all he cared.

Hermione, with a smirk that looked pretty damn serious to him, got up as to follow him out of the dungeons, but he just grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down, without as much as a word.

In the meantime, of course, Daphne and Theo were staring at the scene, quite entertained, by the looks of it.

"If that upset you so much, I'll find a way to make it up to you," she whispered in his ear and Draco had every intention to ignore her, but then he felt a hand climb up on his thigh and stop right below where he was internally hoping she would get.

Bloody Gryffindor. It was the Quidditch match all over again. It had taken quite a lot of effort, back then, not to Disapparate them both back at the Manor.

He did his best to give the impression of nonchalance, but she seemed to quite enjoy teasing him as she leaned into him and stroked his thigh back and forth, until Draco was forced to stare into the fireplace and try to calm down.

"Doesn't look like you minded that much, does it?" Her hand stopped on the waistband of his uniform pants and Draco swallowed, desperately trying not to embarrass himself in front of the whole seventh year, plus the Durmstrang students. "Doesn't look like there's something I should make amends for, right?"

As her hand moved up to his belt buckle, he grabbed it and pulled her to him, kissing her like there was no tomorrow, feeling her smirk under his lips.

She bit his lower lip and drew back. "I think it's dinner time."

Dinner he would spend with a Disillusionment Charm to keep him company and trying to forget the feeling of her hand on him, on his waistband, on the buckle he hoped she would really untie.

Theo gave him a sympathetic pat on the back and followed his girlfriend on her way out.

As soon as they stepped foot out of the dungeons Hermione had her Death Eater mask on and he took her right hand in his, getting a soft smile in return, all the playfulness gone.

§§§

Being with Hermione Granger was exhausting. What was even more exhausting was trying to get some attention while she was studying – so basically most of the time – and he couldn't even find the words to express how bloody hard it was to try and get her out of the library when it was already far too late to keep studying. The thing was, whenever she was really focused on something, she tended to forget things like eating, or sleeping.

His theory was Granger had finally realized she would have to finish that one year, that the war wouldn't get in between her and N.E.W.T.s again. She had probably thought going back to school was just some random charade the Dark Lord hadn't told them about yet, so she didn't fully prepare for exams – according to her. Even though she did study more than he ever did, so she was still way ahead of all of them.

Once she had made sure her study schedule was starting to go as planned, she started hyperventilating and repeating she was behind with every class, although she _was_ at least two months ahead of everyone in their year. Draco had been forced to spike her coffee with Calming Potion more than once.

Only two days after they had sneaked off to London, Draco Malfoy was trying to get some attention from what now was his girlfriend. She was sitting crossed-legs on the couch in his room, practicing for the millionth time a spell that was already perfect.

He thought of hiding the damn Charms textbook but wasn't sure that was a great idea, after seeing her reaction when he'd tried to distract her. He didn't manage to accomplish that with anything, not even magic. Only thing he could do was take a book and pretend to read to avoid an existential crisis.

Draco had been staring at her for hours now, it was past midnight and she didn't look even remotely close to stop. He was pretty sure she would go on until morning to "make up for the time she'd lost".

Sighing, he left the book on his desk and leaned on the back of the couch to draw her into his arms, leaving wet kisses on her neck, and nearly snorted when he saw she barely even noticed him. "Come to bed."

"Draco, I have to study."

He nipped at the skin right below her jaw and grinned. "You've been working on the same spell for hours and it's already as perfect as one can possibly get it to be, so you either come to bed out of your own free will now, or you will in a minute, after I'll be done casting an _Imperio_ on that nice little head of yours."

"You can't do that, I'm still six chapters behind!" Her voice was full of panic, which made Draco laugh. The importance his witch gave to school, at her own expenses, was absurd.

"And you will have plenty of time to study in April, when Flitwick will assign them." He managed to slip away the book from her hands without getting Stunned and closed it, then left a kiss on her cheek and nodded for her to get up.

"But it'll be too late," she complained and looked at her book, worried.

"Hermione," he warned her, making it disappear with a silent spell. As he saw her gasp at him, indignant, Draco smirked. "You can have it back tomorrow morning. Now, come to bed."

§§§

"If I'm failing my N.E.W.T.s, it's on you," she pointed her finger at him and Draco drew her closer.

Hermione hadn't even been awake for ten minutes yet and she was already lecturing him.

"Only thing you're failing at is letting me be a decent boyfriend," he laughed and kissed her forehead. If _she_ was going to fail, then they all didn't stand a chance at life.

"Forgive me for trying to pass my exams, your highness."

Draco grinned, "Well, that's a lot better." He rolled on top of her and started kissing her neck, while she was still saying something about N.E.W.T.s and how he didn't let her study, and as he kept getting lower he smirked hearing that her rambling was interrupted by sights and gasps that couldn't feel better at that moment. He was kissing the gap between her breasts when they heard the knocking. Draco growled and buried his head on her stomach. "This has to end." He was about to get up and answer the door, but she stopped him.

"What?" Hermione hissed at Theo. He sort of blushed as he saw her attire – Draco's uniform shirt – and made to speak, but got interrupted. "How about you don't knock on people's doors before breakfast?" Theo nodded and his witch quite literally closed the door in his face. Well, didn't the exams suit her?

He was behind her before she could realize, but it didn't really go as planned, as she locked her hands in his hair, their lips together and slammed him into the door. That's his witch, going from harassing Theo for interrupting what could have made on hell of a morning to sexually harass him for stopping – not that he was complaining or anything.

Draco couldn't find enough people to thank for Wednesday mornings and that blessed free first period they shared, as he lifted her for Hermione to lock those beautiful legs she had around his waist.

"I should have hexed you senseless," she said in between kisses and the bites on his neck.

"Never too late to try," he grunted while she was assaulting his skin, where he was sure she was going to leave a mark – or marks _,_ by the looks of it.

"Don't tempt me."

"I think Theo was trying to tell us we _missed_ breakfast," although Draco probably wouldn't have said that if he'd known what was about to happen, for she stopped kissing him and got back on her own feet.

"What do you mean, we missed breakfast?" She narrowed her eyes and turned around, looking for the clock.

"Granger, it's Wednesday, I have first period free, as do you, so my alarm is set an hour later than usual. I usually go to breakfast, but I was kind of busy today" he sighed as he saw her worried expression, knowing where that situation was headed.

"I only have _forty minutes_ to review Potions?"

§§§

Draco had only left Hermione for sixth period, after which he had to meet Theo at the Quidditch pitch to practice for the non-existent Quidditch tournament. They could use their free time to practice or just plan out a friendly, but there was no official competition.

He was supposed to help Theo ring shopping, but they pretty much had to go to Diagon Alley for that and they couldn't be spotted evading from school in such a public place, and it wasn't like Daphne would leave them alone without them telling her why they were going and Draco was pretty damn sure she had eyes everywhere, so they couldn't really go without her knowing.

Theo didn't want to risk some of the Nott jewels being cursed, given his family's past, so he refused to give her something from their vault. They could only wait for the Easter holiday to sneak off to Diagon Alley, but, still, Theodore wouldn't shut up about it. Wouldn't be much of a secret anymore if he kept bragging about it, but they were pretty confident Daphne wouldn't even remotely think of stepping foot on the field on a rainy day, so it was safe.

Apparently, keeping this big of a secret from a girl was not as easy as one would expect. At the end of the day, Daphne had been raised in between high society brunches and balls, she was literally brought up to see an engagement proposal coming from miles away, which didn't really make it easy to try and keep it secret. Seriously, two blokes ring shopping without a clue and he couldn't even ask Hermione to give them a hint on what Daphne wanted her engagement ring to be like. He could only hope for the best.

§§§

"Seriously, Daph, this is getting ridiculous," Hermione complained. She couldn't _believe_ Daphne had dragged her into this.

"I mean, look at them! They're not even playing, just standing there in the middle of the pitch, talking. There must be something going on."

Daphne Greengrass had her eyes glued on the Quidditch pitch from the bloody Gryffindor tower, where third-years and fourth-years were living. After classes were over, Daphne had straight up dragged her up there, where she was only allowed to be because of her Head Girl status, and was now using Hermione's authority to stalk on her boyfriend because she thought something was up.

"You're overreacting. They're just talking, why does it have to be such a big deal?" Hermione sat on the armchair near the window Daphne was using to prove whatever the hell she was trying to prove without any sort of evidence.

"Because they're barely even practicing. If you only have to talk, you can bloody well talk _inside_ the castle, instead of flying around in the rain. Which means they don't want to be heard, so they _must_ be up to something," she explained. It still didn't make sense to her.

"They're boys, they like Quidditch and, as much as neither of us understands why, it does sometimes entail flying around in the rain. Can we go now? We've been here for an hour, people are starting to stare."

She hated conspiracy-theory Daphne. She really did – with a passion. She would always drag her into situations like creeping on her boyfriend, whom she was supposed to trust, usually just to confirm her crazy theories, or weird plans only _she_ could think of.

Then again, she once kidnapped her from the Manor for a six hours long shopping trip to every single dress shop she could find in Wizarding London because she suspected her mom wanted to throw her a surprise birthday party – which she didn't, Daphne's birthday being over two months away – and she wouldn't have anything to wear – also not true, she had a whole wing for herself at Greengrass Manor and a good half of it was dedicated to clothes.

Stalking was no news to Hermione. Routine.

"Hold on, something's happening," Daphne answered.

"It'd better," she murmured.

"They're leaving! We have to go back to the common room."

And so Hermione found herself almost running back to the dungeons because "Theo can't suspect anything."

Twenty minutes later, she kindly abandoned Daphne on a couch and locked herself up in her room with no intention of moving before dinner.

Her peace didn't last as long as she wanted it to, though, for someone knocked on the door and she could only pray it wasn't Daphne with her crazy plans again.

She opened the door and found it was only Draco.

"Can I come in?"

"As long as Daphne's not with you," she sighed and closed her Transfiguration textbook.

"What happened?" He closed the door behind him, kicked off his shoes and slid into bed with her.

"I've just spent more than an hour stalking you and Theo from the bloody Gryffindor tower this afternoon, so whatever you're up to, either be more subtle about it, or she's going to find out by next week. Nothing out of the ordinary, really." Hermione let him draw her on his chest and sighed, closing her eyes.

Draco's chuckle echoed through the room and she couldn't help but smile. The lucky bastard didn't have to handle crazy-Daphne, ever.

"I'm genuinely sorry. We were sure she wouldn't step foot on the pitch because of the weather, but we never thought about her spying on us from the _Gryffindor_ dorms."

"Just talk while actually playing Quidditch next time and she'll leave you alone," she yawned half-sentence and leaned into him, as sleep was getting to her.

"I'd tell you what this is all about, but I'm worried she may carve it out of you, if she gets a hint you know something." Draco's hand moved to her hair and began massaging her scalp.

"Don't. Seriously, just don't, I don't want to know. She'd never leave me alone."

"Are you sure you're ok? You're not usually sleepy this early, I figured you'd be up studying or something. You know, _catching up_ ," he mocked and kissed her forehead.

"Stop making fun of me, I really am behind. And I don't know, really, I think I'm just tired."

"Want me to get you something from Madame Pomfrey?"

"No, I'm fine. And why are you being so nice, did something happen? What did you do, Malfoy?" Hermione raised her head and eyed him suspiciously.

"Why do you straight-up assume something's happened every time I'm being nice, _Granger_?" He pretended to be offended and he'd never looked more like his oh-so-pureblood self, to her.

"Because you don't naturally strike people as _nice_ , Draco," she laughed and put her head back down.

"That's because I don't want to. But, since you so nicely agreed to let me handle our relationship, I think I can be as bloody nice to you as I please, can't I?" His hand was back in her hair and the other one was playing with her fingers.

"Get back to your snobby self, you prick, you're freaking me out," she laughed and entangled their fingers together.


	15. Schemers

"I can't do this, Draco! I have exams and a life and there's no way in hell he honestly expects me to."

Ginny almost laughed from behind the statue she was using to hide. Looked like Draco Malfoy was in for one hell of a ride. She hadn't been dealing a lot with Hermione in her pre-exams state the past years, but she did hear about it from Harry and Ron and she knew bloody well how passionate Hermione was about school. There was something off about her, though, she was acting differently and she just had to know why.

"Apparently, he does expect you to. It won't be forever, he'll be back before you realize it." the Ferret was trying to convince her about something she didn't get, but Hermione seemed to have none of it.

"You don't know that. What if he doesn't come back? What then, I'll just go on with this farce forever?"

"Hermione, you need to calm down, you're going to make yourself sick. It will be fine."

" _Fine?_ How is this going to be fine? How am I going to tell them? Bellatrix will flay me alive."

So there were problems in Voldemort's little gang? It's not like Ginny expected them to just shout their plans for everyone to hear, but her stalking mission wasn't going as planned either. She had nothing.

Final-exams Hermione – completely normal. She had to do something she thought she couldn't do – which she probably could. Someone was missing – could be anyone – and there was possibly a civil war among Death Eaters. _Great_. Plus, she had a feeling Bellatrix wished to flay Hermione alive any other day of the year, so perhaps that wasn't even relevant.

"How am I supposed to run the bloody show without him?" Hermione hissed and punched the wall. She didn't remember ever seeing her do that.

Malfoy grabbed her shoulders so that she was facing him, his hands climbing up on her cheeks. "It is going to be fine. _We'll_ help you and I am most definitely not letting anyone hurt you because of this mess."

Malfoy's voice was… reassuring. He didn't sound like an evil villain trying to force Hermione to go out and kill random people, not like she had imagined him to be. She had been thinking they had something on Hermione for months, now, even after Blaise told them about what happened during Christmas break. Harry had wanted to go in his place, but it was too dangerous, in case the Polyjuice worn off, so they had to take Blaise's word for it and, as Slytherin as he was, even _he_ didn't think that was normal.

At the end of the day, that was Hermione. She always had a plan, no matter what. Maybe it wasn't the most perfect, detailed plan, but she always had one. However, she was making it bloody hard to believe she hadn't gone completely bad, that was for sure.

As she didn't hear any more talking, Ginny turned around to look at what was going on, hoping for some useful development, but she didn't quite find what she was looking for.

The two of them were standing head to head, Malfoy still had his hands around her and they didn't look to be planning anything evil for the day. They were freaking her out, honestly.

Ginny didn't usually take the time to observe them, _really_ look at them, and when she did, she only saw them whispering to each other, sitting together or even holding hands. Ginny never truly believed they were actually together, though. She considered it more like some façade thing they had going on to hide something bigger.

Except that the _couple_ she was stalking looked as real as could be. As insane as it sounded, they didn't look fake to her. So now she knew nothing. _Great._

§§§

Sitting on one of the black leather armchairs in the Slytherin common room, Ginny was pretending to study, the History of Magic book opened on her lap.

Nothing had happened all day. While she kept following Hermione and Malfoy, everything was as normal as it could possibly be. After the conversation she'd eavesdropped in the morning, the two of them didn't touch the subject again, although she could tell Hermione was worried.

She was sitting with Malfoy and Greengrass, leaning on him, and he had his right arm around her shoulders. He and Greengrass were deep into conversation, while Hermione only intervened from time to time. Not that they were talking about secret Death Eater plans, it was something about Diagon Alley, but Daphne seemed to have something else in mind. Her tone was quite interrogatory and Ginny couldn't find anything worth such secrecy about Diagon Alley, of all places. Hermione would chuckle into Malfoy's shoulder after a particularly odd question, while he looked more keen on pretending to know nothing about what Greengrass was asking, either avoiding her questions or giving awfully vague answers.

"So if you and Hermione got engaged, would you give her one of the Malfoy rings?" Daphne asked, after a while, and Ginny turned around so quickly her book almost fell from her lap. _Engaged?_

"Daphne, what the hell?" Malfoy said, at the same Hermione was letting out a resigned, "Seriously?"

"What?"

"We're in the middle of a war, and it's none of your business, that's what," he replied. It was pretty dismissive, really, but she doubted they'd had that conversation already and Ginny wouldn't want to have it in front of an audience either.

"You didn't answer my question," Greengrass said and crossed her arms. There was definitely something behind it, something Ginny couldn't quite grasp.

"No, I would not give her a Malfoy ring. The damn thing would probably kill her, or worse."

He did have a point. Hermione was no Pureblood and the Malfoy house was quite old. While they did take blood purity seriously, the Malfoys weren't as fanatic as the Blacks or the Lestranges, but jewelry that old and powerful would need a good month of curse-breaking work before he could give it to Hermione and not risk her getting killed.

"So Theo would buy a new one too?" Daphne questioned, nonchalantly.

"Daphne," Hermione warned.

What was going on there?

"The Notts are even more fond of their Pureblood status than my family is and you're both Sacred Twenty-Eight, but with the blood curse still active, I wouldn't risk it. What is it with you and rings today?" Malfoy's voice sounded exasperated in a tired-of-your-shit way.

Curse? Ginny didn't know about any blood curse running through Pureblood families, but was it all families or the Greengrasses only? Could _her_ family be involved as well?

After a few seconds of complete silence from Daphne, which Ginny started to notice was not normal _at all_ , Malfoy spoke again, looking quite tired, "Please tell me you're not going all stalker on him again."

"I have to go," she simply answered, walking out of the common room with a grin.

"I've told you it wouldn't last," Hermione sighed.

"Theo's going to kill me."

"Theo knows his girlfriend well enough not to."

So she would have to ask Blaise about the curse too, among other things. _Great_.

§§§

"I don't know, okay?" Ginny said for the millionth time that day. She felt like "I don't know" was always her mood, lately. "There's something going on and neither of them seems particularly enthusiastic about it, that's all."

"You said someone's missing, they didn't give out any clues about who that may be?" Harry asked.

"No, but it sounded important." Ginny sat on a chair and closed her eyes, exhausted. She had followed the two around for the whole day, apart from the classes they didn't have in common, but even then, Hermione cared too much about school to spend that time plotting and scheming instead of taking notes.

The Room of Requirement was the Gryffindor common room again, Harry was pacing in front of the fireplace and Neville and Luna were sitting on a couch, looking concerned.

"Harry, you're making me sick, sit down," she repeated. "They actually looked like a couple, get over it."

"No, Gin, they're not a bloody couple."

"I know what I saw, I've been following them all day. It's not some wicked scheme, they don't just kiss in front of everyone and then fight like crazy when no one's looking." Ginny kind of wished they did. Everything would be easier, then.

Harry Potter stopped in front of her, looking quite dazzled, and eventually sat down. "They can't be together, Ginny. She's a Muggle-born and Malfoy's a spoiled Pureblood prat with the emotional capacity of a rock. There's no way in hell Hermione fell for that."

"But that's the thing, Harry," Ginny threw her hands up in exasperation. "Neither of them looks like they're faking it. They were alone in the bloody hallway this morning, there was no need to act, and still, the moment I thought Hermione was going to hex him or something, they were standing head to head. He was _hugging_ her, for Merlin's grave, there was no public to do that for. They're not acting."

It had quite shocked her, really. All the time she had spent observing them, they only acted different _in public_ , not when they were alone. You could tell they were colder, distant, whenever there were people around. Hogwarts was crawling with Bulgars and she got Hermione probably had to be on her best Death Eater behavior, but the difference was clear.

The two of them only looked to be a little more relaxed when being with Theodore Nott and the older Greengrass, if in public, and that was it. Ginny still couldn't wrap her mind around it.

"She's smarter than that, something's up," Neville murmured and stood up, pacing.

"Blaise doesn't think it's fake either," Luna replied, although she was starting to look dreamy and absent again.

"They're not," Ginny agreed, "Look, I don't like it either. I don't know how this is possible or why, but she has to have a plan, we just need to get her to talk."

"And how do we do that?" Neville asked.

"I might have an idea." Harry walked to the window the Room had created to simulate the view from the Gryffindor tower over the Quidditch pitch.

§§§

"What have you done?" Hermione burst into the room, outraged.

Ginny was the only one looking at her. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Before anyone could move a muscle, Hermione had her wand pointed at her throat. "What have you done?"

Both Neville and Zabini pointed their wands back at her and she almost laughed. "Go on, there will be a horde of Death Eaters invading this place in no time. I may die tonight, but none of you will ever make it out alive."

"Then help us, Hermione," Blaise looked like he actually believed she would. Hermione took a second to look around and then it hit her, hard.

"Just tell me where he is," she whispered, lowering her wand.

She stepped back from Ginny, significantly closer to Blaise. Everyone around her lowered their wands as well and she could hear the tension in the air. Honestly, she was a Death Eater and they still believed her?

Hermione didn't think they expected her to grab Blaise by his throat and point her wand at his temple. "I've been living among Slytherins and professional liars for months, Harry. You're going to have to do a lot better than that to fool me."

They looked like it was their first week of war.

"You wouldn't," Ginny murmured.

"You have two very valuable people, Gin. Watch me."

"So it's true, one of you _is_ missing," she whispered, seemingly relieved. How would she know? Unless…

"You've been _following_ me?" Hermione was outraged.

Ginny ignored her question. "We'll give him to you, but I genuinely don't know what else you're talking about."

Harry scoffed next to her and scowled. "Riddle. So he's valuable now, isn't him?"

"I don't know what wicked theory you have about me, but I'm not always plotting and scheming like you expect me to." Honestly, they probably thought she spent her days plotting massacres. Luckily, that wasn't her job.

"You know I'm not going to stop, Hermione. You know me better than that."

She tightened her grip around his throat and snorted, "I do know better and so should you. I was ordered to find you and kill you, Harry, so how about you tell me where Draco Malfoy is before I decide to suddenly be a good Death Eater?"

"A bloody good Death Eater? You've killed and tortured for him, what is wrong with you?" Ginny seemed to be about to hex her.

"You people have been my family for seven years and you still don't know me," Hermione muttered, shaking her head. "Everything I do, I do for a reason. Malfoy is one thing, but why am I so eager to have the Dark Lord back? Try to think, for once."

The room fell silent, the only one who dared to speak was Harry. "He's in the Shrieking Shack."

Hermione loosened her hold on him and lowered her wand. He had figured it out, at last. Maybe trying to survive without her or Ron had had a positive impact on him, after all. He had figured it out. He knew.

Lord Voldemort was her way out.

Five minutes later, she was walking with Ginny to the Shack, since Harry obviously couldn't leave the Room of Requirement, as insurance. If something had happened to Draco, none of them would make it out in one piece. She was sick of their games. First the keys, now Draco and possibly the Dark Lord too.

Wanting to get out of the Death Eaters for good was one thing, but in no way she would let them interfere. If you want something done right, do it yourself – she had been swearing by that ever since she got to know the Slytherins. She could not – would not – let them interfere in any way.

Hermione sort of did have a plan to get out of that situation, but it wasn't perfect yet – as much as it annoyed her to admit – and she needed to figure some of the details out yet. Like Draco. What was she going to do with Draco? Daphne and Theo were alright, none of them were Death Eaters, even though Theo's situation was a little different, as his father was one of the first that supported the Dark Lord.

But Draco had the Mark, just like her, and she had to sort things out with him before she took any major decisions. She wasn't ready to give him up, didn't want to, but she couldn't ask him to fight her battles with her either, not when he would risk dying in the process.

None of them said a word until they made it to the Shack, where Hermione found herself quite annoyed by the choice of the location. She had forgotten how bloody hard it was to get in from the entry by the Whomping Willow.

It took several minutes and a lot of effort not to be killed by the damn thing while trying to make it into the secret passage and Ginny would have been knocked out by one of the branches if she hadn't pushed her down into the tunnel before she had a chance to poke the knot in the trunk.

"Why did you do that?" she asked, once they were safely in.

"I didn't know you were so eager to spend the night in the Hospital Wing, but I'll make sure to let it hit you, next time," Hermione really wasn't in the mood for interrogations.

"I'm not, you just didn't have to do that, that's all."

"I did have to do that and if you think Harry or anyone else would not hunt me down just because I decided to let a bloody tree knock you out for no reason, you're wrong."

"Looks like Harry's decisions are a bit off, these days," Ginny murmured after a while. She didn't remember it to take this long to get there.

Of course, no one understood why Harry had told her where Malfoy was, out of the blue. He'd given no explanation and she was pretty sure there was something very close to a fight still going on in the Room of Requirement.

She had been looking for Draco everywhere, all day, she even tried to use the map – and she usually did her best _not_ to use it – where she didn't see him at dinner, but he was just gone. Disappeared. There was no reason for him to be using the seventh floor and she was still pretty sure it was always occupied by Gryffindors anyway, as he knew as well. She had even taken into consideration he and Theo might have been off to get Daphne's ring, but Theo was at school and she was positive he wouldn't send Draco alone to buy his girlfriend's engagement ring. Hermione just knew there was something going on, with the Dark Lord missing.

She actually had a theory about that but wasn't quite sure yet. Hermione was positive Harry's horcrux hunt hadn't stopped, so maybe he had destroyed enough of them for Voldemort to realize what was going on. She just couldn't find that much on how they worked, even in the restricted section.

As she began to notice a faint light ahead of her, Hermione couldn't help but sigh in relief. She was doing way too much and not enough thinking at the same time. She hadn't even considered this may be a trap, that someone could be waiting for them in the Shack, ready to knock her out and lock her up somewhere no one could find her.

Maybe Draco only took a trip to Hogsmeade or something and they made it look like he had disappeared. But then again, maybe they did take him and this still was a trap. Suddenly, the possibility that she had been played hit her, and she lightly slowed down, not enough to raise suspicions in Ginny but enough to give her more time to think.

Hermione nonverbally cast a Supersensory Charm, her wand still in her hand, and listened closely. She did hear voices coming from the Shack entry but couldn't quite recognize any of them, as they were still too far. Deciding that couldn't be normal, she stopped and turned around, facing Ginny.

"What?"

"You may want to cast a Silencing Spell next time," she said and Stunned her, without as much as a word.

Quickly, she twirled her wand around herself and cast an Invisibility Spell and proceeded along the small passage.

Hermione climbed up the stairs and entered the Shack, careful not to make any noise. The voices were still arguing about what she supposed was Draco's capture.

"…out of your mind…"

"…necessary…"

"…she will kill you…madness…"

"…doesn't know…"

Even with the spell, she couldn't hear a lot, they were mostly whispering and she recognised a male and a female voice, one that didn't sound like Luna's, so who the hell was in there?

As Hermione emerged into the abandoned house, the voices got clearer and louder. She stopped by the door and looked inside the room.

Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass were arguing, while an angry looking Draco Malfoy was tied to a chair, as was she.

"You're completely mad," she said.

"You're a Slytherin, Daph, you should know better."

"Being a Slytherin does not excuse kidnapping your friends. What were you thinking?"

"I kidnapped no one, you followed me!"

Hermione took off the spell and Daphne saw her at once but pretended to be looking around the room, as Zabini had his back turned at her.

"You Stunned Draco, brought him here, hit him with a Silencing Spell and tied him to a bloody chair, I call that kidnapping."

Slytherin indeed. That's what she liked about them, they didn't just run into the fight without as much as a plan, as a Gryffindor would. They would analyze the situation and choose the best option. Right then, the best option was letting her know what had happened.

"Hermione will thank us when we get her out of this madness."

She almost snorted. She pointed her wand at him and cast a silent _Incarcerous_. The next second Blaise was on the floor, bound and gagged.

" _Hermione_ will do no such thing. Who do you think you are? I'm not some damsel in distress who needs saving. I can take care of myself."

She released Draco and Daphne and Blasted the door that supposedly led outside.

"Are you alright?"

They both nodded and Draco kissed her, before taking her hand and heading to the door.

"This is not over," she threatened.

As soon as they were far enough from the Shack, she stopped and pulled the Invisibility Cloak out of her Disillusioned beaded bag, handing it to Daphne. "Ginny should wake up any moment, take this and go to Honeydukes. In the cellar there's a trap-door that opens to a secret passageway leading to the one-eyed witch statue by the stairs to the Dark Arts classroom on the third floor. It takes about an hour, but it's safer than taking the short way."

"Where will you go?"

"Malfoy Manor. I'll see you soon."

Daphne hugged them goodbye and took the Cloak, tossing it on with one last worried glance.

Her hand still in Draco's, they ran out of the Hogsmeade borders and Disapparated, images flashing through her mind. The Dark Lord gripping his chest. His red eyes wide open as he stared unmoving into the nothing, before grabbing her left arm and touching her Mark with the point of his finger. Her whole arm had felt like hell had just opened its gates under her skin.

 _"You're in charge, Miss Granger."_

 _"My Lord?"_ she had panted out, terrified.

 _"Find him and kill him."_

 _"Find who?"_

Lord Voldemort had cought a rivulet of blood. _"Harry Potter."_


	16. Cunning and ambitious

"Are you going to tell them?" Draco whispered, walking to the gates of the Manor.

"I don't have much of a choice."

Hermione's mind was a cluster of thoughts and emotions. She was both angry and terrified, yet the worry sure as hell wasn't helping her not thinking about all the ways she could make Blaise pay.

Draco took her hand as the gates turned into smoke to let them in.

"What are you planning to do? You're way too composed."

She smiled at his remark and shrugged. "Just thinking about the new battleplan."

"Which is?" He pushed.

"I don't know yet," she sighed. "It all depends on how things will escalate, I'm just considering the possibilities. I don't know if we should come back to school tomorrow or stay here some more days to figure out what to do and how in Merlin's name we should handle this."

"You mean the Order or the Dark Lord's temporary replacement?"

"Both. I wonder who's in charge of the Order since Dumbledore's dead. As for the Death Eaters, we can only wait for the developments. I can't really make a decision without even knowing how they're going to react."

Draco put his hand on the knob of the front door and it magically opened for them. They quickly reached the empty Drawing Room and Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling that nervous. She took off her cloak and left it hanging on the Dark Lord's seat, sitting down. Looking at herself, she noticed she was still in her magic-proof – way too short for her liking – Hogwarts uniform.

Draco followed her to the grand table and leaned on it in front of her, taking her hands in his own.

"Are you okay?" He whispered.

Hermione nodded and leaned her head on his chest, taking a deep breath, "I can do this."

She let go of him and exposed her now red Mark, then touched it as the Dark Lord did, feeling a dozen minds suddenly connect with her own. She pictured Malfoy Manor and filled the call with as much urgency as she could.

"Let the show begin," he murmured.

Multiple Death Eaters then started to appear. The inhabitants of the Manor, such as Bellatrix, the Lestranges and Lucius Malfoy were the first to arrive, staring at her outraged and confused.

"Where's the Dark Lord?" Bellatrix asked, glaring at her.

By that time, everyone was already there.

"Sit down, all of you," she sighed and people started taking their seats, apart from a few exceptions.

"How dare you be in my master's seat, you filthy Mudblood?" Bellatrix shouted and fired a – deadly, she was sure – hex at her, that she managed to block in time.

Hermione stood up and pointed her wand back at her. "Sit. Down."

By that point everyone but her had taken a seat, some more reluctant than others.

"Where is the Dark Lord?" Lucius Malfoy asked again. She noticed Draco was back in his seat next to him. She'd have to change some seating arrangements later, Bellatrix being that close wasn't going to be any good, not in that kind of situation. Snape, on the other hand, was eyeing her with a mix of amusement and badly concealed disgust, which she was sure was more than intentional.

"The only thing I know is that he put me in charge until he comes back, I have no idea when that will be or where he is," Hermione finally answered, slowly.

And then it was chaos. Not that she was expecting anything else.

"What is the meaning of this?" Walden Macnair, one of the worst human beings she had ever met, was barely able to sit down still.

"Something happened. I don't know what that is, or when it happened, he just stormed into Hogwarts and gave me this," she said and showed him her new bright red Mark. "And then disappeared."

It was like she could hear every single person murmuring and swearing in the room. Some were confused, others simply angry, others had the same look in their eyes Bellatrix had when it came to killing.

"How is it possible?" Dolohov eyed her curiously, with something in his expression she couldn't quite grasp.

"How am I supposed to know? He didn't do or say anything else besides leaving me here to run his show with zero instructions." Hermione was sure, it wasn't hard to pick up on the annoyance in her voice.

"This has to be a joke," Lucius said.

"Did he look any different? Perhaps that wasn't even him and that Mark of yours was cursed or something." Antonin Dolohov was now completely tuned towards her in his seat, hands in pockets and looking rather calm.

"That was him. And no, he didn't look different, just sick. He cought blood after changing my Mark and disappeared. He didn't even look like he could properly stand. _Something_ happened."

"Could the Order have anything to do with this?"

Should she tell them? Surely the Dark Lord had known for some time before telling her Harry was alive, but there had to be a reason he hadn't shared the information with the Death Eaters.

"It's possible. We can't afford to exclude any option, right now."

The room turned silent for a few moments before Bellatrix pointed her wand at her, about to shoot another possibly deadly hex her way.

"Filthy Mudblood! You killed my master!"

Hermione barely had the time to dodge the blue light before standing up and disarming her, then Conjured chains that trapped her into the chair and Silenced her.

"Since you seem so keen on trying to kill me tonight, you will have your wand back when I will be in no mortal danger from you anymore," she said, keeping her voice as steady and cold as possible. It wasn't like she couldn't hear the whispers in the room.

"As unexpected and unpleasant this situation may be for all of us, it's a mission like any other for me _and_ you as well." Hermione could feel every pair of eyes in the room on her, as she leaned forward, keeping her hands on the table. "Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm not sure the Dark Lord would be pleased to come back and learn we've been fighting like children and trying to murder each other the whole time, instead of figuring this out."

The deadly silence was only interrupted by Severus Snape. "As much as it pains me to admit this, Miss Granger is right," he sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Now more than ever we need to stay united. The Dark Lord will be gone for who knows how long and if she is the chosen one, then so be it. None of us can do anything about it."

Hermione Granger was sincerely impressed. That many not horrible things said about her without the usually high amount of disgust were something, coming from him. She crossed eyes with Draco over the room and he smirked his Slytherin smirk at her.

"For what's worth, you have my support, Miss Granger," Dolohov said and lightly bowed his head. A few more nods of approval made their way into the room, along with other reluctant ones.

Antonin Dolohov was one of the deadliest people in that room and, besides his loyalty to the Dark Lord being unquestionable, he was well-respected among the Death Eaters. Having him on her side, for whatever reason his mind had come up with wouldn't be a bad thing, but she just couldn't help asking herself why. He wasn't exactly the most tolerant towards Muggle-borns.

"While I appreciate your… dedication, Dolohov, I do not care for approval or assent from any of you. The Dark Lord gave me an order and I intend on acting upon it, whether you like it or not. Since none of you seem to protest or fight back at _his_ orders, I expect you to do the same with mine, as I will be very happy to report whichever one of you refuses to collaborate as soon as he gets back. I am sure as hell not taking the blame for your actions."

It looked like her words had had the hoped effect on everyone sitting at the table, but perhaps Bellatrix, who was still glaring at her like she could set her on fire with just her eyes.

They won't respect you unless they fear you, they said, and, as much as they didn't fear _her_ , they did fear the Dark Lord. There had to be a reason why he put her in charge instead of other more experienced ones, such as Bellatrix or Dolohov himself and, while she could understand the risk of putting Bellatrix in charge of anything, with her impulsivity, she could still name at least five better candidates than herself.

§§§

"I think Granger should take Aunt Bella's room," Draco said and she almost chocked on her roast beef. While doing her best to give the impression of a cold façade, Hermione turned towards him, sitting right next to her.

Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy were visibly surprised at their son's suggestion, while _Aunt Bella_ looked simply outraged, other than insulted – for lack of better words.

"Excuse me?" Bellatrix argued.

"There's only a few months left of school and the Dark Lord will be back eventually. Considering her higher rank I don't see why she would have to stay in the South wing," he continued, ignoring her.

Lucius was starting to look suspicious, his gaze wandering between the two of them. Hermione could _hear_ his mind trying to wrap itself around what was happening. Did he suspect anything?

Before any of the Malfoys could speak, Bellatrix intervened. "Well, where would _I_ go, then? And why does the Mudblood prat get to have _my_ room? There are plenty of others available."

"Language, Bellatrix. We're eating," Narcissa said and glared disapprovingly at her sister. Just as any other Pureblood elite lady, Narcissa Malfoy never gave up her manners and expected others to do the same, at least for meals or tea.

"In case you forgot, Aunt Bella, the Dark Lord did order me to help Granger with whatever she needed when we came back to school and there's only one guest room in my wing." She could see Lucius narrowing his eyes at them, probably thinking the same thing she was thinking. By the time she would most probably stay at the Manor permanently, she would no longer be in school and she wouldn't need Draco to help her in case the Gryffindors went rogue and decided to get revenge.

"Plus, you'll get to have Mother and Father's guest quarters, which I'm sure you'd like better than your current accommodation," he continued. Oh, Slytherin indeed. Hermione could see Bellatrix reconsidering the offer. Malfoy Manor was so outrageously big Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy's wing held not only their quarters, but a small ward for guests as well.

"We would love to have you, Bellatrix," Narcissa spoke, "If that is fine with Hermione, of course."

And now the whole table was staring at her. Great.

"It's more than fine with me, Mrs. Malfoy. And, of course, thank you, Draco, for the hospitality," she managed to say.

"So just like that, she gets my room?" Bellatrix protested. The woman was almost literally throwing daggers at her. Hermione felt like she would chain her to the wall and throw knives at her just for fun.

"Bellatrix, don't be silly. It's just a room," Narcissa said, like she was talking to a child, "Plus, you'll get a whole ward for yourself. There's no need to be difficult, now, is there?"

Although Narcissa Malfoy's voice was always calm and far from aggressive, Hermione knew better than trusting she was a gentle, caring witch. She loved her family, of course, and she may bloody well be the best thing that had happened to Draco, with a sociopathic aunt and Lucius Malfoy as a father, but there was just no way in hell Narcissa wouldn't hex you into oblivion if needed. Hermione found she quite liked the woman, as she reminded her a lot of Andromeda at times – not that she would tell her.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood up, glared at every single one of them and left the room. Hermione sighed. The woman was something else entirely.

"Missy," Narcissa called and the elf appeared immediately, "Bellatrix will be using the guest quarters in our wing from now on, be so kind as to move her belongings there and Hermione's into Draco's guest room."

"Of course, Mistress!" Missy smiled and Disapparated. Another thing she liked about Narcissa was that she didn't treat her elves like scum, unlike her husband. She'd never liked Lucius.

"Miss Granger, you should consider asking Severus to open a Floo for you at Hogwarts, due the circumstances of your new role," the woman said and took a sip of wine.

She had actually thought about that, opening a one-way only connection from the fireplace in her room. "I'm already taking it into consideration, Mrs. Malfoy, perhaps a one-way connection to Malfoy Manor would be safer, instead of an all-access one, so there's no unpleasant surprises."

"Of course, a Floo connection can be easily corrupted but the Heads' rooms have protection against anyone trying to get in without permission, haven't they? At least, that's how it was at my time."

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows, thinking. She definitely wasn't surprised Narcissa had been a Head Girl. "Yes, only the owner can get in, unless you have a key. But would that apply to the Floo as well?"

She and Draco had found quite the useful way to exploit the key loophole, though, and while the door itself might have some sort of charm that recognizes the owner's magic or something like that, the fireplaces in the rooms weren't supposed to be used as Floo, since they were obviously not given access to the school's Floo connection, so she doubted the same protections would apply.

Voicing her concerns, she noticed Lucius' eyes kept subtly drifting from her to Draco. The man was far too good at lying and manipulating not to have noticed something.

"Perhaps. The Floo connection might only let _you_ enter the room if that were the case, but it might also let everyone in and that's not the best option for security purposes. I'm afraid my knowledge of the castle's magic isn't that deep, but I'm sure Severus will have an answer."

§§§

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe he was being escorted to his room by his mother. His _meddling_ mother.

"Your father and I noticed something different between you and Miss Granger," she said nonchalantly as they kept walking. Draco did his best not to as much as breath differently, while he waited for her to continue. She didn't.

"So?" He forced out.

"So I was hoping you could clarify the situation for us." Narcissa Malfoy stopped in front of his bedroom door and turned to him.

"There's nothing to clarify, Mother. We're on speaking terms and we haven't hexed each other in a while, isn't this enough?"

Draco strongly tried not to let his mother see how nervous he was to get out of that conversation.

"Are you… getting fond of her?" His mother asked and he could clearly see the mix of worry and distaste on her aristocratic features.

 _Of course_ she had to go there. Draco didn't even bother to answer, he knew she already had the answer.

"Well, is it mutual?" She pressed.

Draco sighed and waved his way, casting a _Muffliato_. "I would be very impressed with her acting skills if that wasn't the case," he murmured and looked away. Why could he never get his way with his mother? He felt like he'd do a much better job at fooling Lucius – and that was saying a lot.

"Where did you learn that spell?" She questioned.

Draco merely shrugged, "Granger uses it all the time, I learn fast."

Narcissa Malfoy stood silent for a few seconds, looking at him.

"Are the two of you serious?"

"I don't know. It's still new," he sighed. He was more worried about Hermione rather than himself, truth be told.

"Can we forge her lineage?" His mother eventually asked. Draco repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"No one is forging anyone's lineage. Why are you so okay with this anyway?" He asked. Something was up, or his intuitive skills were really fucked up.

Narcissa sighed and looked away. "At least she's magical. Whether I approved or not, you know I wouldn't get in your way to the point of disowning you or prohibiting you to see her. Your father, on the other hand, might have given you a hard time."

Draco narrowed his eyes. They were both Slytherins and he knew perfectly well Slytherins chose their words with care. "He _might have_ given me a hard time? What's changed?"

"Her rank, Draco. She's much more important than she's ever been before and I'm afraid your father might have more of that cunning and ambitious than the average does."

So that's it? The key not to get her killed by his family was her now higher rank? He did see his father's point, though, having him involved with someone that powerful now the Dark Lord was gone surely was quite the advantage.

"I hope that cunning and ambitious whispers in his ear at night that I'll be having none of his scheming and plotting when it comes to her. Granger sure as hell won't have it. Merlin knows she's everything but stupid," he shook his head and looked away.

He could only wish good luck to anyone trying to get her doing what they wanted. She wouldn't even leave him alone for trying to get her to sleep and eat at regular intervals now that she was so "behind" on studying for N.E.W.T.s.

"Language, Draco. And I'm sure he will bring this up himself soon, darling. Just don't give him any more reason to be mad at the two of you, the cunning and ambitious only holds him back for so long." His mother softly smiled at him, almost apologetic, and left.

Draco stood there for a few minutes, trying to process what had just happened, then eventually opened Hermione's new bedroom door and stepped inside, before realizing it was empty. Had she not moved in yet? Her stuff was there, so she wasn't in her old room anymore, but where was she? With that thought in mind he did the most reasonable thing anyone who knew Hermione would do: he went to the library.

§§§

Hermione was in hiding. Sort of. Let's just say she was using her current location to both hide and research, but mostly research. The fact that Malfoy Manor's library was – just like anything else there – outrageously big and spooky and mostly unused at night was just a plus.

She was trying to find something – anything – about Horcruxes that could explain the Dark Lord's recent disappearance.

"Miss Granger," someone called behind her and Hermione almost bumped into the 10-feet-tall bookshelf she was glued to, trying to read the names on the back of the old books and parchments. "It's quite late."

She turned around and put a hand on her forehead, trying to get her breathing to slow down. "It's never too late and never too early to read, Dolohov."

"And what are you reading tonight, Miss Granger? That's a very dark section you're consulting," he asked, smirking.

"It is. Not my cup of tea, I'll admit, but you should know what you're fighting nonetheless," she said and turned back to the shelves, pulling out a dusty book that looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

She took the book back to the table she had occupied and put it on top of the pile that was already forming, leaning on the wood.

"Planning on fighting the Dark Lord?" He smirked again and crossed his arms.

Hermione studied him for a few seconds. He was tall, marginally handsome and completely unreadable, unless he let you – and even then, she wouldn't trust it. Plus, he was being way too nice for anyone with a bit of sense not to think something was up.

She smirked and crossed her arms back. "Anything I can help you with, Dolohov?"

"Shouldn't that be my line?"

Hermione merely raised an eyebrow at him.

"I do know a thing or two about Horcruxes. Do you think that's why he left?" He casually sat on an armchair nearby.

"One of the reasons why, perhaps. Cutting out plausible explanations _just because_ isn't really my thing," she sighed and sat on the table, taking the book she had already started reading. Hermione felt terribly self-conscious with his gaze pointed on her, more so since she hadn't been able to change and was still wearing her uniform. Her bloody short uniform, that is.

"I don't think the owner of a Horcrux is supposed to feel when one, or all of them, are gone, though."

"And I found nothing that suggests otherwise. I think he visited some of his hiding places and found one, or more, were gone." Hermione was terribly frustrated at the matter.

"And I imagine you're the responsible for a couple of them yourself?" He said and it sounded more like a statement, rather than a question.

Hermione raised her gaze and pointed it on him, then sighed and closed the book that was proving itself to be more and more useless on the matter. "I've never destroyed one myself but I did play a part in it."

"How many are there left?"

"Three, that I know of. He might have made some more or they might have destroyed more. Whatever the case, it doesn't look like I will be getting any answers tonight." She waved at two more books to go back to their place, then opened another one, reading through the table of contents.

"What _are_ you looking for?" He asked and leaned forward.

"Something that explains what the effects of the destroyed Horcruxes are one their owner. He sure as hell didn't look unaffected. And if so, how do you stop it?" Hermione was growing more frustrated as she saw there was nothing hinting at what she had just said in the table of contents of the book.

"Well, Nagini is nowhere to be found, so he must have taken her with him. Perhaps he will recover like last time," he murmured absently and Hermione couldn't but help asking herself what he was thinking about.

"Why are you not being obnoxious to me?" She asked instead.

"What do you mean?" He studied her curiously.

Hermione rolled her eyes _._ "You know perfectly well what I mean."

Antonin Dolohov smirked and stood up, walking towards her. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Who have you kissed?" She asked, amused. Always trust a Slytherin to make cryptic remarks like that and then be awfully proud about it.

He merely shrugged and then eyed the dusty books behind her. "You won't find anything there. Not what you're looking for, anyway."

Hermione was about to ask him how he could possibly know, unless he'd read every single book in there, but the sound of a door closing distracted her, and then Draco was there, his eyes drifting suspiciously between her and Dolohov.

"Figured you'd be here," he said.

Dolohov stared at him for a few seconds, then smirked, nodded his head goodbye and left.

"Hi," she smiled and hopped off the desk, taking the hand he was offering her.

"Hi," he smiled back and drew her in for a kiss she was glad to deepen. "It's pretty late, what are you working on?"

"Just some research about horcruxes but it's not going very well," she sighed and sat back on the mahogany table, discarding yet another book.

"Do you really think that's it?" He asked and opened a small and old-looking book.

"I don't know. Could be," Hermione sighed. Draco narrowed his brow at her uncertain voice, as asking her what was wrong. "I just hate not knowing."

"Let's go to bed, then. You can keep working on it back at school, I'll have the elves bring you the books you need." Draco took her hands and pulled her back on her feet but she looked back at the tomes, worried.

"I'll make it quick, I promise. Just go to sleep, I'll be back in no time."

Draco Malfoy snorted, "Yeah, like _that's_ gonna happen. How come you're so brilliant yet you don't have any common sense when it comes to studying?"

"That's not true!" she protested.

He looked at her the way you would look at a five-year-old. "Granger, you forget to eat. Or sleep. You're going to work yourself out. _Again._ "

"That was once." She murmured and looked away.

"That was more times than I care to count. I've been slipping you Sleeping Draughts for weeks, now," he sighed and gave her a disapproving look.

"Just one more hour," Hermione almost whined. She knew pretty well how unreasonable she could be when it came to studying, but it was just stronger than her.

"I can have the elves ban you from entering the library, you know."

"You wouldn't," she gaped, offended.

"It's almost midnight and we have school tomorrow. Watch me." Draco looked – and sounded – dead serious.

Hermione quickly calculated her chances of talking him into letting her stay one more hour to sort out through the possibly useful books and the ones she could safely dismiss and found they were pretty low. Plus, she didn't trust Dolohov. He may have said she wouldn't find anything just for her to stop looking. Maybe he knew something he didn't want _her_ to know. Hermione just couldn't risk it.

"Fine," she growled and rolled her eyes, annoyed.

He grinned and stroked her bare tights. "I'll admit, Daphne's work truly is… remarkable."

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help the amusement showing on her face. "Actually, I need to owl her," she remembered.

"What for? She will only be getting it at breakfast and you're going to be there already."

"I need to talk to Snape about the Floo network, I don't think I'll make it to breakfast," she confessed.

"Hermione," he warned, his hands still on her.

"It's no big deal, really. I'll stop by the kitchens on my way to class, promise," she assured, praying it would be enough for him to stop worrying that much. She was fine. One skipped meal wouldn't kill her.

He sighed and reached into his back pocket, then handed her an envelope. "Looks like Daph's always one step ahead of all of us anyway."

"She wrote, 'He's been dealt with.' What's _that_ supposed to mean?" She raised an eyebrow and looked at him.

"That she either placed a nice hex on his sheets that will strangle him in his sleep, or she handled it in a more refined and oh-so-Slytherin manner. Either way, the bastard's in for one hell of a ride." Draco scowled and sighed.

With that, she handed him back the parchment, since she had no pockets, and followed him outside.

None of them had noticed Dolohov hadn't left, but merely Disillusioned himself.


	17. Falling

Hermione woke up and noticed Draco was all over her, again. He just clung to whatever was next to him in his sleep, which was usually her. She tried to shift out of the bed without waking him up, but he really was a light sleeper.

"Where are you going?" He muttered and pulled her back to him.

"I was going to my room so I can have a shower and change before getting back to Hogwarts," she muttered back, not really bothered. Hermione knew perfectly well when and where Draco's spoiled-Malfoy side kicked in.

"What's the point? I have a bathroom and your clothes are here." He nodded towards her uniform, neatly folded on an armchair near the closet, while his clothes were all over the floor, like he could ever deign of folding anything himself. Hermione had slept in one of his – she was sure – outrageously expensive dress shirts, one of the few things he had left home.

"Well, will you actually let me go shower or do you really want to run late?"

"We can sleep in and get there by the time class starts."

Hermione simply rolled her eyes at him and sat straighter, so that he was basically resting on her belly, and started playing with his hair. Draco Malfoy was _not_ a morning person.

Eyeing the clock on his night-table she noticed it was actually pretty early and breakfast at Hogwarts wouldn't start for another hour and a half.

"Like _that's_ going to get me out of bed," he chuckled in his morning voice and moved his left hand on her upper tight.

"I don't need you to get out of bed, I can just levitate you to the Floo and drop you into Snape's office so I can have my shower and you can go back to sleep."

He groaned at that and reluctantly let her go, shifting on his back.

Hermione left the bed laughing and walked into a bathroom that was three times the size of a normal large one. _Malfoys_. She set the shower jet to a medium warmth and stripped of Draco's shirt and her knickers.

§§§

The sheets were still warm when Draco heard a knock. He groaned and got up, heading to the bathroom, where he took off his boxers and wrapped a towel around his waist. Who came knocking on people's doors at six in the morning, seriously?

As the knocking became more insistent, he ran down the stairs that led to the ground floor of his bedroom, mostly consisting of a moderately large library and a sitting area with three couches arranged into a u-shape in front of a fireplace.

Finally opening the door, he found it was none other than Lucius Malfoy knocking at bloody five in the morning.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Was the first thing he asked, but he figured it was more dictated by social convention rather than genuine concern, as he didn't look to even care whether he was awake or not.

"I was going to have a shower, actually. Couldn't sleep."

He could have been worried the shower jet would stop mid-conversation but he knew Hermione's morning showers took forever.

"Are you screwing the Mudblood girl?" Lucius asked, leaving Draco out of breath for a second. At least his mother had been subtle.

"What gave you that impression?"

Maybe Narcissa hadn't said anything yet.

"That's not a no, Draco." Lucius glared at him. He knew his father wanted clear yes-or-no answers.

"I'm not screwing her," he rectified. It wasn't technically a lie.

His father eyed him with a raised brow. Had his lying skills gone fuck themselves the moment he stepped into the Manor? Why did no one believe him when he said he wasn't sleeping with her?

"I could lie better when I was five," he said, instead of hexing him, like he expected him to. Just of out habit, that is. "Don't take me not punishing you for your poor taste in women as approval. I may not like it but, for reasons the Dark Lord can't expect me to understand, she's important now. I want you to get close to her, find out what she's hiding, get on her good side. This is an opportunity, Draco."

Lucius Malfoy looked thoroughly disgusted and dead serious at the same time. Great.

"Of course it is," he muttered under his breath but Lucius seemed to have heard him anyway.

"You may not have any ambition, Draco, but _I_ do. You getting close to her while she's in this high of a position would be good for us, which is the _only_ acceptable reason for a Pureblood to lower himself at such levels."

Draco narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out whether his father was serious or not. "What would she be hiding? She has nothing left, the Gryffindors hate her and I can assure you it's not one-sided."

"She must be hiding something. Everyone does. Find out what it is and we can use it against her. If we can on her good side, we can get back on the Dark Lord's good side again," Lucius muttered, and sounded as hopeful as delusional.

"Me being on her good side doesn't equal to _you_ being on her good side. I hate breaking it to you, Father, but Granger pretty much hates you, not to mention your «Mudbloods don't deserve magic» policy. She has no reason to like you and whether she likes me or not, that wouldn't make a difference for you, or for Mother," Draco spelled out, and knew it was the truth. Hermione was a firm believer that respect had to be earned, not given in name of some kind of authority or rank or even blood. She hated Lucius with a passion, and being an obnoxious, racist Pureblood surely wasn't a bonus on his side.

"Then find a way to make it happen. It's about time you start doing something for your family, rather than for yourself," he said and left.

Draco closed the door and leaned on it for a few seconds, sighing. Bloody great _._

He eventually shook his head and climbed back the stairs leading to the upper level of his bedroom, confident Hermione's light mood would wipe away his bad one. Leaving his towel on the floor, he stepped into the shower and closed back the glass doors, wrapping his arms around his witch, who immediately turned around, clearly not expecting him to be there.

"What are you doing?" She almost hissed.

"Showering," he answered, like that wasn't obvious. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "My father stopped by. Asked me if I was, and I quote, screwing you."

"Well, what did you tell him?" She look slightly alarmed.

"Denied it, but he didn't believe me. He said it was only acceptable for a Pureblood if it's for the _right reasons_ ," he scoffed. Like her blood wasn't as red as his. He was growing rather sick of the prejudices Lucius brought him up with. He had seen more people than he cared to admit bleed, over the last year, and they all bled red.

"And what would those be?" She asked and took some soap, rubbing it on his chest.

"Apparently, I'm supposed to get on your good side, find out what you're hiding so he can use it against you so _he_ can get on your good side as well so you can get him _back_ on the Dark Lord's good side, in that order," he sighed and closed his eyes to better enjoy the feeling of her hands on him.

"Like I can manipulate the Dark Lord into liking him again after he screwed up," she snorted as her hands were now down to his abs.

"At least he won't bother us, as long he thinks I'm with you for his sick plan."

"A man can dream, right?" She chuckled and drew him in for a kiss that felt like the prelude to a rare Theo-less morning.

Draco bit Hermione's lower lip and nearly growled into the kiss as he felt one of her hands wrap itself around his already erected member.

"Hermione," he warned and lowered his own hands to cup her bum, lifting her up so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

"Yes?" She murmured nonchalantly, her hand still going up and down on him.

"Are you sure?" He managed to get out in a reasonably controlled voice.

"What gives you the impression I'm not?"

"Is this your first time?" Draco asked and she shook her head with a smile. He smiled back, before his brain processed the information and told him that meant she had sex with at least another man before. "Who?" He growled.

Hermione raised a brow, as if she couldn't believe he had asked. "Do you really want to talk about this _now_?"

Draco considered it for a second. Did he really want to know, right then and there? He wasn't sure he could bear the thought of some other bloke touching her, not in that moment. So he did the smart thing anyone would do, shut up and kissed her, summoning his wand to cast a contraceptive spell.

One of his hands around her bottom snaked down her thigh and between her legs. His fingers trailed a line that went back and forth from her pulsing center to her opening, and his heart had yelped in his chest when he noticed how ready she was for him. He slipped a finger inside of her, growling into the kiss when he felt how tight she was, and then pushed in a second, barely managing to concentrate. All that mattered was her hands on him and the sexy sounds escaping her throat whenever he did something she particularly enjoyed.

When one of Hermione's hands started replicating on the tip of his penis the movements her tongue was doing while kissing him his knees almost failed to hold him, as his mind imagined her just there, in his shower, on her knees, that pretty little mouth of hers wrapped around him, taking her hands' place.

"You're a tease," he murmured as she broke the kiss to lower herself on him, his hands back on her bum to hold her.

"And what are you going to do about it?" She laughed, amused, holding only his tip against her entrance.

"I, my dear, am going to fuck you silly," he smiled and lowered her on him, as she held him against her. She felt like his personal hell, tight and hot and holding on to him like it was his last day on earth.

She inhaled a sharp breath, her eyes fell closed and her mouth opened in bliss. He couldn't say he felt much different. Hermione's hands ran up his chest and moved to his back, where she lightly scratched his skin.

"Do it again," he managed to murmur, lost in the feeling of her. She complied, this time the marks on his back being more visible and he was sure he was still going to have them on the next day. He didn't mind.

Draco muttered her name when she purposefully tightened her inner walls around him and lowered his lips to her neck, biting and sucking her skin. He was sure she was going to hex him for the marks he was leaving behind and the thought of her all hot and bothered because of him made him smile.

"Harder," she suddenly moaned and her hands moved to his hair, holding him against her.

Draco chuckled and softly kissed her lips but was happy to oblige as he grasped her hips and thrusted into her while she gasped his name. He found himself wanting to hear that sound for the rest of his life, every day. He wanted to be the reason why of those sounds, wanted her to keep saying his name like that forever.

Each time he felt her tighten around him, about to come, he would slow down, leaving her unsatisfied, and she would groan, biting his shoulder.

"Who's a tease now?"

Draco smirked and kissed her deeply, leaving her panting after he pulled away. "What are you going to do about it?"

Hermione stared at him for a few seconds, then licked a drop of water from his lower lip. "Fuck you silly."

"You're very welcome to fuck me silly anytime you want," he smirked and gave her a deep thrust.

This time, when he felt her tighten, he pushed her further into the wall for support and lowered a hand to rub circles on her clit, as she came undone. Draco groaned at the feeling of her walls milking him and followed her into bliss a few pumps later.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, her head on his chest and his head buried into her neck with him still buried deep inside of her. "Can you walk?" He muttered.

"Not sure," she chuckled in response, and Draco merely closed the shower jet and kissed her, before walking them both to his bed, where she settled between his legs with her back leaning on his chest.

"Who was it?" He eventually asked, minutes later, in spite of himself. He could _hear_ Hermione rolling her eyes, still cooling down. Though, Draco had to admit, having her all naked and wet pressed against him was doing the opposite of cooling him down.

"It's quite obvious, really," she laughed and started playing with his fingers.

Draco felt his stomach flinch and groaned, disgusted at the thought. "Please, tell me it's not the Weasel."

Hermione elbowed him and he rolled his eyes.

"No, it's not him. And I'm surprised you would think that. I mean, you saw how Viktor acts around me."

Draco Malfoy stopped breathing.

Viktor Krum.

She had lost her virginity to bloody Viktor Krum.

She had lost her virginity to bloody Viktor Krum _and_ she was still friends with him, monthly owls and all.

She had lost her virginity to bloody Viktor Krum, who had invited her to spend the summer in Bulgaria and gave her tickets to his matches whenever he was in England.

 _Viktor Krum!_

And she demanded he played nice with him! _And_ that he accompanied her to his sodding match. _And_ she denied he still wanted her whenever he would bring it up. _The nerve!_

"You're not going to his match," he stated and tightened his arms around her.

"Of course I'm going," she snorted instead and turned her head, since his grip made it almost impossible to actually turn around. "Plus, he wants me to be there," she added.

"I don't give a rat's ass where _Viktor Krum_ wants you to be. And he's too old for you." Draco refused to even look at her, out of sheer pettiness, of course.

"Look, it was a poor choice, ok? I was young and stupid and not in a good place. Viktor was the first boy I liked that actually noticed I'm even a girl. And I really liked Ron at the time, while he was a jerk and wanted me to feel guilty about going to the Yule with Viktor, who, by the way, was and still is really nice to me." She placed a hand on his chest and managed to turn around to face him, now his grip had softened, straddling him. "And he's not _old_ , he's only three years older than us," she remembered.

If Draco hadn't been so annoyed he would have noticed the twitch in his lower region at the feeling of Hermione on top of him.

"So you regret it?" He asked expectantly.

Hermione looked like she was about to punch him. "No, Draco, I do not regret having sex with Viktor. What I regret is having sex with him out of anger for Ron when I wasn't even ready for that kind of commitment."

He winced at the words and sighed. "Have you ever told him?"

She looked away. "No."

Draco broke into a smile. "That's not how getting back at someone works, you know."

"I know. I was stupid and immature."

He wanted to agree but he was worried he _would_ get punched.

"And who was _your_ first anyway, since you're so perfect?"

Draco looked away again and grimaced. "Pansy.

"And you're lecturing _me_ about bad choices?" Hermione scoffed.

Well, he was willing to admit perhaps that hadn't been his best decision, but it was beyond the point. Pansy Parkinson was _not_ Viktor Krum, international Quidditch star.

Hermione cupped his face and made him look at her. "You have nothing to worry about. I don't care about him like that anymore."

"I'm not worried," he snorted. Like he could ever be jealous of _Viktor Krum._

"Then what's the problem?" Hermione lightly punched his chest. "That was more than two years ago and it's you now I'm in bed with, naked, and you're trying to make me feel guilty for what? Not waiting for you? I hate to remind you, Draco, but four months ago you despised me."

She looked hurt and Draco hated to know he was responsible.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "And not just for being an ass to you for years."

"I know. It's fine." She smiled sadly and kissed him, but he couldn't enjoy it fully.

"It's not fine," he sighed angrily. Letting Lucius control his life and his believes was not fine. Being brainwashed into being a racist prat was not fine.

"We're lucky you grew up, then," she smiled and lowered her hands to his chest.

"Right," he murmured absently and he heard Hermione sigh.

"What's the matter?"

Draco just shook his head and kissed her. She had always been his best distraction, even when he loathed her for being what she was.

§§§

Hermione and Draco Flooed back to Snape's office a few minutes before breakfast, where they parted ways. Hermione was admittedly still a bit sore from their shower, but felt good – no, she felt _great_.

She wouldn't have imagined that her and Draco going back to Malfoy Manor after Blaise kidnapped him and Daphne, on the blissful mission of telling the Death Eaters what had happened with the Dark Lord, would lead to _that_.

As Snape looked at her from behind desk expectantly, as to ask why she was still in his office, Hermione shook the thought of Draco out of her head and took a seat on one of the chairs.

"I was wondering, is there any way you could enable the Floo connection on the fireplace in my room?" She went straight to the point and Snape raised an eyebrow.

"And why would I do that?"

"I need to be able to come and go from Hogwarts to the Manor in case something happens and I have to be there, seeing my new… position. There has to be a way to make it work so only I will be able to Floo back here."

Snape looked as to be considering it for a few moments. "What do I get out of this?"

Hermione almost rolled her eyes, but she needed him to open the Floo for her, so she didn't. "If I had my own Floo connection, I wouldn't have to bother you every time I need to go back and forth."

"I'll arrange it. I'll let you know when it's done."

Severus Snape looked rather happy not to have to deal with her any more than necessary, so he simply got back to his book and let her know not-so-subtly that she could go.

Hermione left his office and headed to the Great Hall, hoping she could get some breakfast before class so Draco wouldn't lecture her about it later. The thought of him brought a smile on her face and she realized that, as overly jealous and annoying as he was, she was falling. And she didn't feel guilty about it, or anxious in any way.

She was afraid that, once the moment would present itself, she would relapse into her fear of losing him over Voldemort, but she found that that ship had sailed. Maybe it was her new temporary role that gave her enough confidence not to be that anxious about the future, maybe her brain had finally accepted the idea that Voldemort just couldn't threaten the people she cared about without losing her in the process. Either way, she felt good.

Stepping into the Great Hall, she spotted Draco almost immediately, not really being hard to notice himself, and headed towards where he, Theo and Daphne were sitting.

"Good morning," she greeted them and Daphne's eyes raced to her face immediately, as if she had some dark secret to spill. Did she know? She looked at Draco, who was grinning at her like the idiot he was, and pulled her to sit in his lap.

"The table's crowded this morning," he explained, not looking even remotely sorry she had nowhere else to sit.

"It's no problem, I'm not staying. I just came by to grab something to eat. I need to get my books before class, and so should you," she said and drank some of his pumpkin juice. She noticed people were eyeing them oddly, probably due to her sitting arrangement.

Hermione ignored them, grabbed a toast from his plate, much to his disappointment, and bit into it, as Daphne was watching them without a word. She knew there was a monologue coming anyway, so she didn't even bother asking.

"Did you have any problems getting back to the castle?" She asked instead, while Draco's arms circled her to pour himself some more juice, even though she knew he was doing it just to annoy her. She was okay with his possessiveness, she understood where it came from, having met Lucius, but he also knew she wasn't okay with his displays of said possessiveness in public just for the sake of it, for the _blokes_ only he saw to see she was taken.

"No, it was suspiciously easy." Daphne was still looking funny at her, sipping her milk and honey.

"What do you mean, suspiciously easy?"

"Exactly that. How did you know about the passage? And that thing you gave me, where did you get it? It's bloody spell-proof."

"I'll tell you everything later, I promise. There's too many ears listening, here," she murmured the last part so only they would hear it.

"The Moronic Duo really had some tricks up their sleeves, didn't they?" Theo asked and she only smirked. They did have some secrets that had helped them keep out of trouble for a few years.

"I really need to go, I don't want to be late for Arithmancy," she said and got up from Draco's lap, finding he was standing as well. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"I need to get my books too, remember?" he smirked and she hoped he wasn't thinking her telling him he should indeed do that meant they were going to have a quickie in his room. But then again, that was Draco. She wasn't really surprised.

As they left the Great Hall, she saw Ginny coming from the opposite hallway, so she stopped and grabbed at Draco's hand to make him stop next to her. "I'll be right behind you," she said, conscious Ginny was looking at them. Draco eyed the redhead coming closer behind her, smirked and kissed her like they were alone, not in the middle of a school hallway.

As he finally pulled back, Hermione rolled her eyes at him with an amused smile and turned around, heading towards Ginny and stopping right before the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Nice," Ginny scoffed, eyeing Malfoy, still walking. "Really classy."

Hermione smiled and crossed her arms. "You touch one of my friends one more time and, I swear, you will be sorry."

"Oh, really? What are you going to do, tell your precious Dark Lord?" Ginny crossed her arms back.

Hermione smirked and took a step forward. "Haven't you heard? _I'm_ in charge now." Ginny was visibly taken aback by that. "That's right, I now have a dozen of Death Eaters at my command, most of whom would be more than happy to kill you all in your sleep."

"That's not possible," she managed to whisper, shaking her head.

Hermione knew what she was about to say was all but true, but she just couldn't resist. She blamed Draco rubbing off on her. "Consider me the new Dark Lord."


	18. New

"You have. To tell me. _Everything._ "

Daphne Greengrass stormed into her room as soon as Hermione opened her door, straight from behind her. Had she been following her? She wouldn't be surprised.

"Daphne, do we really have to do this?" She complained and followed her into _her_ room.

"Yes, we _do_ have to do this. What makes you think we don't? This is crucial, Hermione, I saw you at breakfast!" As usual, her friend had more energy than may be considered healthy. Daphne looked, sounded, and moved like she had been plugged in. What in Merlin's name had she done to deserve that?

"What is it, you saw? You saw two people having breakfast, that's it," Hermione sighed and sat on one the couch in front of the fireplace.

"Spill it, Hermione. First things first, though. The cloak you gave me. Explain." Daphne was standing in front of her, arms crossed, looking at her like Mrs. Weasley used to look at Ron when he did something incredibly irresponsible and childish.

"That's Harry's Invisibility Cloak. It was his father's." Hermione knew what was coming to her as soon as she saw the look in her friend's eyes. "Daphne. _No._ Forget it," she shook her head but she knew it was already too late.

"Just imagine," Daphne started, her gaze wondering dreamingly around the room, "Theo will never be able to keep a secret from me again. I can follow him everywhere and find out what he's hiding!"

"Okay. Stop right there, Greengrass. You will do no such thing and I most certainly will have no part in this whatsoever. You will give me back the damn cloak and I won't tell Theo what a bad girlfriend you are for not trusting him." Hermione tried the guilt card, but they were Slytherins. The guilt card doesn't work on Slytherins. It's more likely they will find something to make _you_ feel guilty about rather than feeling guilty themselves.

"I do trust Theo!" Daphne complained, offended. "But he is hiding something from me and I can only speculate on what that is because I have no bloody proof."

"So what, you want to follow him everywhere using a dead person's Invisibility Cloak?"

Hermione could only hope and pray she would never find out about the Map.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Daphne, I will say this once and once only. You are not touching the Cloak again unless it's a life-or-death situation. Are we clear?" The last thing she needed was Daphne dragging her in unused hallways or classrooms or Merlin knows where to stalk Theo, _again._

"You know something, don't you?" She narrowed her eyes and stared intently at her.

"It's not a bad thing, Daph. You should wait and enjoy the surprise, or at least pretend to," she said and kicked off her shoes to sit more comfortably on the couch.

"So I should just sit pretty and _wait_?" She asked, like she'd just insulted her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, you should do exactly that. Don't ruin this for the both of you, Theo is actually working hard to do something nice for you and you're only trying to sabotage him. It's selfish, Daph."

She knew perfectly well Theo was planning his proposal and she had been assigned by Draco to either keep Daphne distracted or just away from them. Two blokes ring shopping _alone_ didn't quite sound like a good idea to her, but she was pretty sure they were aware of that themselves.

"Yes and I _am_ that selfish," she stated as a matter of fact.

"Let. It. Go." Hermione decided to spell it out for her and Daphne reluctantly gave her back Harry's Cloak.

"Well, since you're as much as a traitor as Theo and Draco, do tell. What happened between the two of you?" Daphne sat on the couch next to her and crossed her legs. Hermione ignored the dramatic turn in her voice.

"What do you _think_ happened?" She tested the waters and hoped Daphne would mind her own business. She hoped in vain, of course, but it never really hurt to try.

"I don't _think_ anything. Don't try me, Hermione."

"Well, you know we were at Malfoy Manor. With the Dark Lord disappearing and all, I had to tell the Death Eaters what happened. No one died, so I'd say it went pretty well." Hermione tried talking her way around it, but Daphne was clearly not having it.

"And then what? Will you make me carve it out of you?"

"Well, we stayed in his room for the night," she started, already feeling her cheeks flush, "And we happened to have sex in the morning."

Daphne squeaked and turned around to face her completely.

"And then what?"

"And then what, what, Daphne? We had sex, period. I'm pretty sure you know how it works," she sighed and looked away.

"Yeah, I know, but you _have_ to tell me more. How was it? How was he? What happened after? Was it awkward? Did you regret it?"

"Calm down, Daph, seriously." Hermione was genuinely starting to believe Daphne was more excited for the developments in her relationship with Draco than _she_ was. "And, to answer your complete lack of respect for personal space, it was great, he was perfect, after that we just laid in his bed and talked, and I'm positive none of us regrets it."

"I have been waiting for this for just _so_ long," Daphne sighed dramatically and leaned her head on the back of the couch.

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. _Daphne_ had been waiting.

§§§

As she watched the Bulgars leave Hogwarts, after dinner, Hermione couldn't but sigh in relief. Viktor was leaving as well, obviously, which made her sad, but, at the same time, all of them leaving would mean she could finally breath and get some space to start acting normal again.

Plus, Viktor leaving would mean Draco would stop glaring at him at any given chance – she was sure he would very much like to do more than just glaring, but he managed to behave. Or, rather, Theo managed to keep him from hexing him. And, hopefully, he would stop being so bloody possessive with her whenever Viktor was around.

Hermione knew there was nothing between her and Viktor, but she couldn't blame Draco for acting the way he did, after their conversation. Viktor was her first, at the end of the day, and there was nothing anyone could do to change that, so Draco would just have to deal with it, but, still, she understood. She knew Pansy had been nothing serious, and Hermione was positive she had been more attached to Viktor than Draco had been or would ever be attached to Pansy.

As Hermione turned around, she found Draco, sitting next to her at the table, smirking smugly. "Stop," she hissed, half laughing, and elbowed him.

"Why?"

"You're childish."

"I'm happy. There's a difference."

"What are you doing tomorrow?" She proposed, trying to distract him.

"I don't know, do you have something in mind?" obviously, Malfoy was paying more attention to the sight of Viktor leaving than he was focusing on her. Prat.

"When were you and Theo planning to go on that shopping trip, again?" Two blokes ring shopping alone was _not_ a good idea to her. But then again, someone had to keep Daphne busy and out of the way.

"As soon as we have some holiday. We can't really disappear out of the blue and expect her not to suspect anything. She's already stalking us." Draco leaned his elbows on the table and sighed. Daphne stalking the two of them around the castle wasn't really a surprise to her, it was more like routine.

"Right. Well, I'll get moving." Hermione tried to stand up from her spot at the table, but Draco held her down by her wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I need some books from the Manor, and we don't have much time." Hermione thought it was obvious. They had things to do and she had to figure out the conditions behind the Dark Lord's disappearance.

"But it's the weekend," he complained.

"So what?" Hermione furrowed her brows. "Even if this whole mess wasn't going on, I would still be studying for the exams."

"Hermione," Draco started, and looked at her like she was a child that needed the adult to spell things out for her, "You're already drowning yourself in work because of your insane schedule when you're at least two months ahead of all of us. I am not letting you become a walking dead just so you can figure out what happened to the Dark Lord. Dolohov said you wouldn't find anything in the library, correct?" He waited for her nod of agreement before continuing, "Then rest assured that you will find nothing. He's one of the best, if there was anything useful in those books, we would know by now."

"But what if he's lying?" She argued. She couldn't just let it go!

"And what would you do about it? Read every single book in Malfoy Manor about dark magic?"

She thought about it, but answering that yes, she would have read every single damn book in there, didn't sound like the right one.

"So what? What am I going to do if I can't study and can't research?"

Draco grinned at that like a child. "Relax." When he saw her astonished face, he sighed and took her hands into his own. "Take a day off. On Monday, you can go back to drowning in books and studying for the bloody N.E.W.T.s and, I promise, I won't bother you."

"But I don't have time to relax!"

Draco sighed. "You do realize you've stayed up all night and researched all day, don't you?"

"Well, yes. What else was I supposed to do?"

"Hermione. We are going to have a nice night in, for once, like normal people do. Tomorrow, we will sleep till late and relax, whether you like it or not."

Hermione glared at him and took her hands away from him. "Normal is boring."

"It is," he agreed, "But it's necessary, sometimes."

"You're not my father, you know." Hermione pouted and looked away, pretending to be still eating.

"I wouldn't have to be, if you weren't being a child about this, you know." Draco took a sip of his pumpkin juice, while Hermione grimaced. She looked slightly offended, but he couldn't say he was sorry.

"I _am_ an adult."

"When's the last time you had more than three hours of sleep?" He bit into his apple pie and stared at her, already knowing the answer.

She seemed to be thinking about it. "At your house."

Draco grinned at the memory of that morning. "That was two days ago."

Hermione rolled her eyes. _"I am an adult, Draco."_

He stared at her for a few seconds. "No, you're not. Shall we?" He stood up and offered her his hand, only to be ignored. Draco merely shook his head and chucked. He knew perfectly well that, while Hermione was usually the only adult among them, she had no common sense when it came to studying.

Hermione followed him out, and he promptly locked their hands together. First, because he liked the feeling of it. Second, because he was kind of worried she would run away.

While they were walking down the hallway that lead to the entrance, though, Hermione froze, pulling him to a stop as well. He was about to ask her what was wrong, but she just pointed a finger at the big window in front of them.

There, above the Black Lake, the Dark Mark was shining in the sky. On the grass, there was a body.

"We should find Snape," he immediately said.

"No," protested Hermione, stone cold. "We're going back to the dungeons, we can't be found here."

"What?" Draco didn't understand.

"We are the only Death Eaters here, apart from Snape. Who do you think they're going to blame?"

"Even if they did blame us, they have no proof and we control the Ministry and Hogwarts anyway."

"Barely," she whispered. "Let's go."

She dragged him out of there and into the dungeons, almost running.

"Who do you think did it?" He asked, once they were locked in his room.

"Not one of us, for sure." Hermione was pacing, like she couldn't stay still. He was sure her mind was buzzing with ideas by now.

"How's that obvious, again?"

She stopped in front of it, looking worried. "Think about it. There's only you, Snape and I. Snape wouldn't do something so stupid and reckless and we didn't do it. The Death Eaters wouldn't attack without at least telling me first. It has to be the Order."

He considered it for a few seconds. "The Order wouldn't kill so randomly, without a reason."

"No, they wouldn't," she whispered, her gaze lost. "It could have been an incident, though. Or they could be faking the death. Maybe that person wasn't even dead in the first place. Just wanted to make it look like it."

To be honest, the distance was just too much to be sure that was or wasn't a dead body. It sure as hell made sense. Stage a murder _en plain air_ , make it look like the enemy did it and sit pretty, waiting for things to take their natural turn.

"You don't need a Mark to cast a _Morsmorde_ ," he reasoned out loud, and Hermione shook her head in agreement.

"We're being framed."

"Poorly so. What's the plan?" He asked and couldn't help but admire that pretty little head of hers. Hermione always learned something from every situation. Ever since she started living in his house, and later on in Slytherin, he saw her become more and more devious. Not in the Voldermort, sociopathic way, of course. No, she was better than that. Hermione was devious in a smart, calculated way.

"We do nothing," she said, and began pacing again, more slowly this time. Like Looney Lovegood on one of her night walks, thinking about Merlin knows what. "They don't have any proof. We'll stay here, play dumb and sit pretty while Snape brings them down like the fools they are. Or until Bellatrix snaps," she added the last part with an amused smile.

He realized it was all about whose body it was near the Lake. Who was the sacrificial lamb?

A few hours later, they found out. Snape had summoned them into his office to try and make sense out of what had happened.

"Do you have anything to do with this?" Was the first thing he asked.

Both of them denied.

"Who was it? Who died?" Draco investigated. They were all sitting down, Snape in his throne-like chair.

"Hestia Carrow. She's not dead, just badly cursed and unconscious."

"Of course," Hermione snorted. "Of course they would go for the Carrow sisters."

Hermione and he never really been friends with them. Frankly, they creeped him out, while Hermione just never showed a particular interest in socializing outside of their little group. Even if she did, he doubted the twins would be at the top of her list.

Snape started at her, as asking her to elaborate, while Draco just sighed and shook his head in resignation.

"Ginny knows about me. She must have told the others and now they're trying to put me against the Death Eaters. Clever, I'll admit."

"But nearly not enough," he finished.

"No, but it is more than enough to create a temporary distraction." Snape didn't look like he was paying them any attention, more like he was thinking out loud.

"Do you think they're planning something?"

"They might. Otherwise, why now? It's not like the twins popped up out of nowhere, they've been here for years. That, and they're relatively innocent," Hermione reasoned.

"Will she make it?" Draco asked.

"Probably, yes."

"Is someone with her?"

"Her sister."

"Should we call someone? Maybe Alecto?"

Both of them cringed at the thought of the Carrows being back at Hogwarts, but there wasn't much room for choice. Alecto and Amycus were their aunt and uncle, other than the only family members close to them. Their parents were dead, both killed in the First Wizarding War at Voldemort's side.

"About that, perhaps Miss Granger may want to consider calling for a meeting."

"Where was she when Hestia was attacked?" Hermione suddenly asked, like she hadn't even herd him and like that was the missing piece.

"She's in Herbology with Theo, they have a project they're working on for Sprout. I'm pretty sure he said something about a study group," Draco remembered.

"Yes, oddly enough, she wasn't with her sister at the moment of the… incident."

"This was either very planned out or a very lucky incident they took advantage of," Hermione sighed. It wasn't totally out of question that it may have been an accident. Cursing innocent people still wasn't in the Order's style. Not the Order members still in Hogwarts, anyway.

"I want to see her, as soon as she wakes up," Hermione demanded. He was sure her intentions were something along the lines of a careful interrogation. She just couldn't stand not having the answers.

"You will. Flora is upstairs, if you want to talk to her." Draco noticed Snape wasn't really being obnoxious that night.

"I'll go right now. Then I will call that meeting. We'll see you at the Manor?" She stood up and brushed her skirt straight.

"No, I have to stay here and make sure the situation doesn't get too out of hand. Your Floo connection has been activated for both you and Mr. Malfoy, so feel free not to step into this office for a while."

"Thank you. Let me know if I can do anything," Hermione offered and Snape nodded, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

Well, not _completely_ obnoxious.

Draco followed her out, keeping a hand on Hermione's lower back.

"How is it there's always something new around here?" He muttered, not really expecting an answer. Hermione merely chuckled and shook her head. "I don't think Flora knows something."

"Me neither, but better to be safe than sorry."

He couldn't disagree.

They found her sitting at her sister's side in the last bed on the left in the Infirmary. Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen.

"Flora," Hermione called softly, as she turned around. Draco had to admit, she wasn't bad-looking at all. Quite the opposite, actually. Her long and dark strawberry blonde hair fit her pale skin and green eyes pretty well. "I know you've already talked to Snape, but can I ask you a few questions?" She continued.

"Sure," Flora merely whispered.

"You were at a study group, right?" Hermione waited for Flora to nod. "Who else was there?"

"Theo Nott, Tracey Davis, Nicole Royce and Jaime Knight."

"Did anyone try to stop you from leaving or made you stay there longer than intended?"

"Not at all. Why, do you think they planned to keep me away from Hestia?"

Hermione looked at him and then shook her head. "We're not sure yet, but we have to take every possibility into consideration."

"I guess. I don't think it was them, though."

"What about Jaime Knight? Do you know him well?" She asked, and he remembered he had followed her, one day.

"We know each other from class, but I don't know much about him."

"And, of course, you don't know about anyone that hated you, or Hestia, right?"

Draco could tell Hermione was making an effort.

"I'm not really a people person, neither is she. We don't have many friends. Most people outside of Slytherin tend to associate us with our uncle and aunt, especially those that were here last year."

To put it nicely, everyone could be said to hate them.

Draco and Hermione looked at each other, and he nodded.

"We're about to see Alecto and Amycus, do you want me to send them here?" He asked.

"No, just tell them I'm fine and so will be Hestia. If they come here, they might torture everyone to find out what happened. Although, you two know who did this, don't you?"

Hermione looked pretty surprised at her statement. "We kind of do, but it's nothing we can prove yet. As soon as we find something, you and your sister will be the first ones to know, I promise."

Flora nodded and offered them a faint smile.

Hermione and Draco went back into the dungeons, as per Snape's very nice request not to show their faces in his office, to Floo to the Manor. They could Disapparate there from the forest and appear outside of the borders of the Malfoy property, but it wasn't really the best option, in those circumstances.

"She doesn't seem so bad," Hermione said when they were back in her room.

"She's not. They just weren't around my house a lot when we were children and later on they mostly kept to themselves, so we never got to bond much. But I think you saw just how different Flora is from Amycus and Alecto. Hestia too."

He could tell Hermione was feeling bad for them now. That was just how Gryffindor _she_ was.

They got in the fireplace together, and appeared at Malfoy Manor, in the entrance sitting space. The Drawing Room was empty.

Hermione brushed off the ash on her arms and clothes and sat at her new place. Draco would sit in Snape's, since he wasn't coming. That, and he wanted to be closer to Hermione in case someone – mostly the Carrows – tried to do something stupid.

Hermione rolled up her left sleeve and touched the red Mark, and he leaned in to place a kiss on her lips before everyone started popping up.

"It's going to be fine," he whispered. She merely nodded and smiled, unconvinced. Well, he couldn't really blame her.

As expected, aunt Bella Apparated there first. The inhabitants of the Manor, along with Dolohov and Macnair quickly followed. In less than a minute, every Death Eater was there, taking their assigned seats.

Bellatrix raised an eyebrow when she saw him sitting next to Hermione, in the seat that was supposed to be Snape's. He looked around, noticing most people were staring at him.

Hermione cleared her throat, and everyone stopped talking, turning to look directly at her instead.

"There's been an attack at Hogwarts," she simply stated. "Hestia Carrow has been found on the shore of the Black Lake, unconscious." She ignored the muttering of indignation and surprise around the room. "What is most… surprising about this situation is the Dark Mark that was cast over Hestia's body."

Several people around the room gasped and Amycus Carrow stood up, hands gripping the table and the face of someone who wanted blood. "What is the meaning of this?"

Hermione ignored him, addressing the other Death Eaters instead. "Of course, none of you had anything to do with this, am I wrong?"

"Someone's trying to turn us against each other," Dolohov stated, without a hint of doubt.

"And frame us. Alecto, Amycus," she turned towards the Carrows and nodded at both, "The twins are fine. Flora had a study group tonight and, although Hestia was cursed, Madam Pomfrey and professor Slughorn are already working on a cure. She will make it."

"We're going to Hogwarts," said Alecto.

"No, you're not," intervened Draco. "We talked to Flora before coming and she said you should stay here. You can owl her first thing in the morning, if you don't believe me."

"And what, exactly, are _you_ doing in Severus' seat?" Amycus asked.

Before Draco could answer, Lucius stood up and pointed his wand at him. "Don't you dare talk to my son like that."

Well, that was a surprise. Lucius usually didn't do things like that for him. Somehow, he suspected it had something to do with his _infallible_ plan of getting on Granger's good side.

"Snape is at Hogwarts, and it is none of your business where _I_ sit," he hissed and stood up as well.

Hermione sighed and glared at Amycus from her seat.

"If you would please sit down and act like an adult, Amycus, I asked Draco to sit here. Does any of you have a problem with that?"

Amicus Carrow sat back down, along with Draco and Lucius, whose lips were twisted in a smirk.

"Now, it is not impossible that Hestia's attack was a distraction. I talked to Snape and we both agree that, whether this was planned or not, the Order may try taking advantage of the situation. I want you all to be on alert until we figure it out. Understood?" People in the room nodded, some indignant, others confused. "You can go, then. If you have any news, summon me. Owls can be intercepted." She raised her left arm, where the sleeve was still rolled and the Mark showed.

People began to leave. Some Disapparated, some gathered in small groups, talking to each other. If Draco had to guess, he'd say they were plotting, more than engaging in small talk.

"Dolohov, do you have a moment?" Hermione asked, standing up.

"What can I help you with, Miss Granger?" He smirked and approached them.

"While I doubt this was an organized plot to overthrow us, you have eyes everywhere. Do keep them open," his witch instructed.

"Your desire is my command," he said, smirking, and bowed a little, quite theatrically.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Draco had to turn the other way not to smile.

"Dolohov," she started.

"Yes?"

"Do cut the bullshit, will you?"

Draco had to put a hand over his mouth not to laugh. "Shall we?" He said, offering her his hand. Hermione smiled and took it, turned around and headed for the door.

As they were about to leave the room, he saw his father approaching them. He gestured for Draco to leave them alone, so he told Hermione he would wait by the fireplace and left.

As soon as he turned the corner, he Disillusioned himself and came right back, standing right behind Hermione so he wouldn't be in the way in case anyone needed to pass by.

Before his father would even start talking, Draco felt Hermione tense up, so he put a hand on her lower back to let her know he was there and started drawing circles on her skin like he always did. She almost immediately relaxed under his touch.

"Miss Granger, I just wanted you to know that I will do everything in my power to help with this situation. Perhaps I can ask some of my contacts if they know anything," his father was saying, before she interrupted him.

"That won't be necessary of you, Mr. Malfoy. I have already asked Dolohov to keep his eyes open about the matter and I am sure he will comply with my request." Hermione was cold as ice, although polite. Then again, so was every exchange between the two of them.

"Of course. And, I was thinking, now that you and my son are so close, maybe we could put aside our differences," Lucius added, in a last, desperate attempt to get her attention.

"Mr. Malfoy, would you put aside your differences, as you so nicely put it, with someone that doesn't believe you're even worthy of your magic?" Lucius stayed silent for a few seconds, like he didn't know what to say. "Thought so."

Draco stopped touching her, as he felt the conversation was coming to an end, and returned to the fireplace like nothing happened, just in case his dad followed her. When she arrived, he was pretending to read through a book. Both pretended he wasn't with her merely moments ago. Hermione must have caught the hint, his bright witch.

He smirked his Malfoy smirk at her and leaned in to kiss her, but stopped as he looked better at her.

"Granger, no," he sighed.

"What?" She asked innocently.

"I'm not buying that. I know that look."

"I am an adult," she protested.

"In your dreams, maybe."

He put his hand back on her back and gestured towards the fireplace. He noticed that, regardless of all, she had this weird, almost shy smile on her face.

"Are you okay?" He asked once they were back in her room.

Hermione turned towards him, locked their hands and leaned in to kiss him deeply.

"Yes," she whispered and smiled. "Thank you for caring."

So that's what it was about?

He cupped her cheek with his right hand and just admired her for a few seconds, smiling. Not grinning, not smirking, just smiling.

"You know I really care about you, don't you?" Draco just felt the need to say it out loud. He wasn't sure their relationship was ready for the famous words yet. Hell, he wasn't sure _he_ was ready for them.

Hermione nodded and leaned into his chest, his arms locking around her. "And I really care about you."


	19. Desperate measures

"What do you think you're doing?" Draco muttered, still half asleep, feeling Hermione trying to leave the bed.

"Getting a shower, it's almost nine," she answered, sitting back down and passing a hand through his hair.

Draco smirked, but kept his eyes closed. "I like our morning showers."

"Alone," Hermione said and pulled back her hand.

"Why?" He almost whined, but she was already gone. As greenish light invaded the room – Hermione must have opened the curtains – Draco groaned and put a pillow over his head.

He guessed a good twenty minutes had passed when Granger finally emerged from the bathroom, only dressed in his deep green robe. He caught himself thinking she was gorgeous, with her hair wet and wearing something that was his.

"I need to Floo to the Manor later so I can grab some books to work on," she simply said and sat back on the bed.

"Today is meant to relax and do nothing, you know that, right?" He asked, just to be sure he wouldn't have to tie her to the bed or something.

"Yes, I remember." She rolled her eyes and started brushing her hair with her fingers. "I'll start my research late tonight or tomorrow."

"You don't need to work yourself out for this, we can figure it out piece by piece," he said, but he knew she wouldn't be convinced that easily.

"We don't have time to take it slow, Draco."

"Says who? It's not like he left us any instructions," he scoffed, and rolled on his back.

"He did, actually, even if it doesn't make sense."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Killing someone that's already dead isn't an instruction, it's just something a madman would say."

"What if he's not dead?" She asked softly, like she didn't really want to know the answer. He didn't, either.

Harry Potter being dead was easy. Harry Potter being alive, on the other hand, meant constant fighting and Hermione possibly being taken away from him. Although sometimes he thought she was far too deep into the Death Eater play, he knew perfectly well she had changed in an irreversible way.

"You really think so?"

"I honestly don't know what to think," she sighed.

"Well, the bad news is," he sighed dramatically, "We missed breakfast," he finished, trying to lighten the mood, and it seemed to have worked, since Hermione laughed at his statement.

"I'll go get something from the kitchens," she offered and started to get up, but, once again, he stopped her.

"Not dressed like that." He eyed at her outfit meaningfully and grinned, pulling her to him for a kiss. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she whispered back, smiling on his lips.

§§§

"They can't do this, can they?" Ginny asked, for the hundredth time.

"They can. A student has been attacked, what do you expect?" Blaise replied, annoyed. Gryffindors truly knew nothing of strategy, or even subtleness. It was embarrassing. "You should have let Potter do it, at least he's supposed to be dead. _You,_ on the other hand, are pretty much alive."

"Can't you just erase the evidence from your wand?" Neville asked.

Erase the evidence, _honestly._ Not that he didn't like the idea, erasing the evidence was a nice loophole and all, but they should have thought about the consequences before casting a bloody Dark Mark over Hogwarts.

"You don't just erase a _Morsmorde_ from your wand's record, Longbottom," he scoffed. "It was cast with Hestia's wand, which was possibly the only smart move you people could think of. Still, it doesn't matter what wand you used, the damn thing leaves a track on the wizard that casts the Mark."

"So it's on me forever?" Ginny almost screamed, panicking.

"Unless someone with a Dark Mark takes it off you, yes."

"What do you mean? How does that work?"

Blaise sighed.

"You can move the track the _Morsmorde_ left behind on someone else. The Dark Lord thought it might be useful in case someone with no Mark had to cast one and they were working, say, undercover, so their cover wouldn't blow up. The track of a _Morsmorde_ wouldn't be as suspicious on a Death Eater as it would be on someone else. In this case _you_ : Ginny Weasley, Gryffindor."

"Well, then we can force Hermione to do it. We can blackmail her with something, and it's done."

He sighed again, shaking his head. Did these people believe dark magic was just _that_ easy? Why would it be frowned upon and sometimes illegal if it were nice and easy?

"Nice try. Both parties have to be willing for the spell to work. This way no one can take advantage of it, like _you_ are trying to do."

"I'm screwed, that's what you're saying." She was clearly starting to panic.

"Pretty much."

"I can't ask Hermione to take the damn thing off me, _obviously_ , and, even if I did, it would be nothing but an admission of guilt."

"Precisely." Blaise was just annoyed. He couldn't believe someone had that much lack of subtleness. Honestly, she could have got Potter to do it and they wouldn't be in that mess. He was supposed to be dead, no one would scan his wand or look for traces of the Dark Mark. But, of course, Gryffindors just _had_ to be impulsive.

Apparently, Hestia had seen Potter and Ginny talk by the Black Lake, just like that, _in plain sight_ – although Ginny said they were hiding behind some rocks and dead tree _._ Hestia had cast a curse on him immediately, he cast a _Protego_ and the spell backfired on her. Then Ginny, as bright as she was, decided to take advantage of the situation and cast the bloody Dark Mark on Hestia's body to make it look like the Death Eaters were responsible for hurting one of their own. Which was bullshit, since the only Death Eaters in the school were Hermione, Draco and Snape. With Snape as Headmaster and Hermione in charge, it would be hard to prove they attacked Hestia even if they actually _did it_. That, and Ginny thought a dark spell like the _Morsmorde_ wouldn't leave some kind of trace.

Bloody Gryffindors.

"So now what?" Asked Harry, in a whisper, from the furthest corner of the room.

"Now we wait," he sighed and leaned on a wall. There was really nothing else for them to do.

§§§

The next day, Draco couldn't help but let Hermione go back to her frenetic schedule. It was Monday, classes started again and his forced timeout on her life ended Sunday night.

On Sunday night, she Flooed back to the Manor to grab some books she claimed she needed. He understood that. The dark section in the Hogwarts library was in no way as dark as she needed it to be to find what she was looking for.

He couldn't manage to get her to have lunch as was the school schedule, though, before she rushed to her afternoon classes. Hermione went straight to the library with some of the books she had taken from the Manor, while he went to the kitchens to get at least a few sandwiches for them to eat. Draco could bet his life, if he let her alone in there, she would not come out any better than she was when she came in.

"We're not sleeping tonight, are we?" Draco sighed and he knew, as he watched her, that it was a rhetorical question.

"Nope," she smiled at him apologetically and leaned in to kiss him.

Great.

Well, at least they would both get a break in a hour or so.

When their lunch break was almost over, Hermione seemed to have found something, by the way her eyes glitched.

"Look at this!" She almost screamed.

"What?"

"This is a reversed Patronus, look." She turned the book for him to see as well and he read the spell and its indications. "The original formula is _Expecto patronum_ , as in waiting for help. This one is _Praecido patronum_. The verb itself in Latin means to cut off something, to deny it or break it. How have I not came upon this sooner?"

Hermione looked genuinely intrigued, perhaps even happy about her discovery.

"So this is the exact opposite of a regular Patronus?"

"I think so. The way this works is, you think of your most terrible memory to conjure a Patronus that you can send to attack someone, perhaps even kill them. It seems similar to what would be conjuring a Dementor, pure dark energy that will literally suck the life out of you."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Why aren't people using it already, if it's that powerful?"

"This is really dark magic. Normally, you would think of your most happy memory to conjure a Patronus, which is positive energy meant to help you. This one, on the other hand, will temporarily take away a piece of your soul to transform into the Patronus you're conjuring so it has the power to be an offensive charm this serious. It needs your magic to work, that's why it requires a piece of you."

Well, if that wasn't the answer to his problems. Was it too good to be true? And why was he happy about it? Oh, right. Voldemort broke his family and requested they give up their home so he could use it as headquarters. Delightful, truly.

"About that, we should perhaps make sure the part regarding the temporarily lost soul is actually temporary. You know, to avoid any Horcrux kind of incident," Draco sighed and grabbed his wand. "I think we should try."

"What? I mean, it's interesting, for sure, but it can't help us." She looked like she couldn't understand what was wrong with the situation.

"Just… think about it, okay?" He sighed and leaned back into his chair.

She denied, confused.

"What should I think about? Who do you want to use this against? The Dark Lord?"

"Hermione, why are you doing this?" He just asked.

"Doing what?"

"This," he gestured at the books all over the place. "Why do you want him to come back?"

Hermione looked perplexed. "We're Death Eaters. He left me in charge, it's our duty."

Why? She was supposed to be the one person to hate the Dark Lord enough to do everything in her power not to help him come back, or recover.

"What are you talking about? You're supposed to hate him, look what he did to you!"

Voldemort had turned her into a murderer. Not that he was judging, or anything, they were all murderers, torturers and awfully bad people. But she was different. She was supposed to be different. She was a Gryffindor, noble, brave and whatever other bullshit they sold.

"What are _you_ talking about? Why this outburst, why now?"

"You have the chance to end him, why don't you?"

"You're not on his side, are you?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and lightly shook her head.

Draco said nothing. He had never put it like that before, but he guessed that was kind of the reality. He wasn't really on his side. How could he be? The Dark Lord had almost destroyed his family one to many times, and family was everything. He hated his father for brainwashing him as a child and through all his teenage years. He loved his mother for always taking care of him, no matter what. Regardless, family was everything for Malfoys.

Perhaps it was time to do something reckless, and daring, and oh-so-brave. Something a Gryffindor would do. He hated the idea. Loathed it. But – he recognized with a sigh – desperate times called for desperate measures.

"I'm on whatever side suits me best."

§§§

Draco could not believe what he was doing. He could honestly hex himself for it. At the very end of his Herbology class, he was thinking about how to get bloody Ginny Weasley to part from Longbottom.

After professor Sprout finally let them go, he made his move. He stared at her until she met his gaze. Then, he looked at the nearby empty greenhouse and then moved his eyes on her again, nodding ever-so-slightly. He couldn't risk anyone noticing the interaction between them.

He was one of the last to leave the greenhouse, taking a ridiculous amount of time to put everything back in his bag. When the class was now almost empty, he made his way out and walked into the empty greenhouse he had indicated to the she-Weasel, making sure no one was following him.

As soon as he was inside, she was staring at him, her wand drawn and ready to aim at him. He couldn't say he was surprised.

"What do you want?" She asked before he could even open his mouth.

Before answering, he cast a muffling spell so people couldn't hear them, just in case.

"As weird as it sounds, I want your help." The words felt like sand in his mouth.

"My help." Ginny raised an eyebrow at him and crossed her arms.

"It's about Hermione," he just said, not wanting to give too much away in case she wouldn't accept.

"I don't see why I would help any of you," she scoffed.

"Because," Draco smirked, "I believe you have a Dark Mark you need to get rid of."

He wasn't sure _she_ did it, at first. He knew almost for certain that one of _them_ did, just didn't know which one. And, by the look on her face, it was her.

Honestly, these people needed to step up their game if they expected to live in a world ruled by their enemies.

"I don't know what you're talking about," was her only response.

"Of course you don't," he replied, "If you did, you would admit of being guilty of attacking Hestia."

"You have no proof."

"Oh, I believe I have." Before she could react, he disarmed her and grabbed her forearm, making sure his Mark touched her skin.

The contact only lasted for a second, before she backed off in shock, but it was more than enough to prove his point. Draco glanced at her exposed skin and smirked again. A faint, grey Dark Mark was glowing on her forearm. That was the trace the spell left on a wizard.

Ginny looked at her arm as well and put her hand on her mouth, trembling.

"What did you do to me?" She panted.

"Now, I believe _I_ am the only thing standing between you and Azkaban," he said, as a matter of fact. If they caught her, that was the only possible option, apart from execution.

Tears were collecting in her eyes. "What do you want?" She just said.

"As I said, I need your help. I believe you and your little friends are hiding on the seventh floor, these days, aren't you?"

She merely nodded.

"Then I'll see you at ten o'clock. Alone, this time." He gave her her wand back, then turned around. "Longbottom, try putting some effort in that Disillusionment spell," he said, walking out of the greenhouse.

Ten o'clock came quickly.

Hermione was still deep into her research, so she didn't even notice he was missing.

"Well, what do you want, Malfoy?" The Weaselette asked as soon as he stepped into the Room, which looked like what he assumed was the Gryffindor common room.

"As I said, I need your help. A bird told me you were hunting down and destroying Horcruxes before The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die finally died. I want you to resume the research."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him, skeptical.

"If that was true, you would also know I didn't have anything to do with the mission."

"Nonetheless, you seem to be in charge around here."

"Even if we wanted to resume the research, Harry was the only one who could feel Horcruxes. We wouldn't know how to find them."

"Perhaps I can help with that."

Maybe all that time researching with Hermione wouldn't go to waste.

"How? And why would you help us? _You're_ the enemy here." She crossed her arms and stared at him intently.

"I know you don't trust nor like me. The feeling is mutual. But you need the Mark trace gone and I need Granger not to bring back the Dark Lord. It's a win-win."

"Why?"

"My reasons don't concern you. I can tell you what all the Horcruxes are and where you can find them, plus a little discovery of Hermione's on how you can kill him. Even though, with Potter dead, that would be quite wasted, wouldn't it?"

"What does Harry have to do with this?"

"Well, that's the prophecy, isn't it? Only he can kill him."

"Perhaps we could find a way around it," she said, looking away. Sketchy, if you asked him.

"I doubt that."

Draco sighed dramatically and saw a curtain move from the corner of his eye. He glared at Ginny and raised an eyebrow at her. "You really suck at following instructions, you know? Come out."

Ginny looked away again and shook her head lightly. Blaise Zabini emerged from behind the curtains and took off the Disillusionment spell. Draco couldn't help but wonder why _he_ was there, among all.

"You didn't expect I trusted you with my life, did you?" She asked, raising a brow.

Draco considered it for a second. "Not really, no," he decided.

"Start talking, then."

He rolled his eyes, but complied. "There's a total of six Horcruxes: Slytherin's locket, Hufflepuff's cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, the diary you had in second year, a cursed ring and Nagini."

She visibly grimaced at the thought of the diary. "We're only missing Nagini and the cup."

"Well, I don't know where Nagini currently is, as she seems to have left with her master, but the cup is in the Lestrange family vault at Gringotts."

"I hope you're joking," she said, looking at him dead serious. He couldn't blame her. That would be one hard steal. She looked quite shell-shocked, to be honest.

"Well, how do we know you're not just trying to trap us there and kill us?" Zabini intervened.

Draco almost scoffed. "Yeah 'cause _you're_ going to part of a break-in at Gringotts. Here's the thing, Weasley," he said and sat down in a red armchair – not ideal, but still. "You can either do this and hope for the best, or let Granger continue her obsessive research and possibly find a way to revive the Dark Lord and make him come back stronger than before. It's your choice, really. I'll be fine either way."

The Weaselette stopped for a moment. "You said you knew how to kill him," she asked, in a very passive aggressive manner. _Gryffindors_.

"Hermione recently discovered a form of reversed Patronus. It's very dark magic, but a sacrifice is needed once in a while, isn't it?"

"How would it work?"

She didn't seem to even care about the fact that it was dark. Was that Gryffindor bravery or Gryffindor dumbness?

"Like a regular Patronus, only instead of conjuring good energy to help someone that's in danger, you do the opposite. You would temporarily cut away a piece of your soul and the Patronus you conjure would attack or potentially even kill your target."

"And you think it would work?"

Draco sighed and picked up a white feather he found on a coffee table nearby his armchair and started playing with it.

"In normal circumstances? Not likely. Right now? It's worth a chance. If Hermione's right and he's weakened by the loss of most of his Horcruxes, he must be weak enough that this could work."

"Can you show me the book?"

"Hermione has it. I will make a copy of the spell. So do we have a deal?"

"That's it? All you want us to do is destroy them and try to kill him?"

"Precisely."

She shrugged. "Then we have a deal."

Draco let go of the feather he was holding and stood up from his place.

Then he saw Blaise do something he had never done before: he scratched the back of his head in an oddly familiar way.

He heard Ginny's voice in his head saying they will find a way around Potter's prophecy. He remembered the two Blaises Hermione kept seeing, which, at that point, was probably just Polyjuice.

Draco smirked. He had the upper hand. He finally knew their secret.

"Well, well, well. Looks like The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die really _won't_ die."

Both Blaise-Potter and the Weaselette stared at him in shock, but he was quicker. He drew his wand and cast a protective shield in front of him.

"Now, before any of you does something stupid, people know where I am and what I am doing. If I don't come back in one piece, they will know whom to come after."

"Harry, don't," Weasley murmured when Potter looked like he was about to do something incredibly stupid. "Like it or not, he's my get-out-of-jail card."

"I believe I am."

"Get the Mark off her, then," Potter almost spat and lowered his wand.

Draco grabbed Weasley's arm with a smirk and pressed his wand on her skin.

The spell was similar to _Morsmorde_ in its nature, but effectively different. The way it worked was that of using an already conjured Mark – in that case, hers – and casting it on someone else – him.

As he murmured the words again and again, the Mark on her skin dissolved like smoke and he felt it moving on his own forearm instead.

"Did it work?" Potter asked when he finally let go of Ginny's arm.

Draco uncovered his own Mark, that was now moving the way it did when he would cast one in the sky. "It worked."

He was about to leave, when Potter called his name.

"What?"

"Hermione wants to get him back because he's her way out," he just said.

Well, that made sense. Her captor was indeed the only one who could set her free.

"And maybe she could accomplish that. Death, on the other hand, is much more final and a much better way out."


	20. Bare

Draco Malfoy was having a shit day. Really, it hadn't been this bad since 6th year. Plus, Hermione was still holding onto the book where the spell to potentially kill the Dark Lord was, so he couldn't get it for now. He was waiting for her to go back to the Manor for an update with the other Death Eaters, or just to get some books.

Working his way into his room through the common area, uncharacteristically filled with people that night, he didn't feel well. A feeling of nausea had invested him since he left the Room of Requirements, two days ago, and it didn't seem to be going away any time soon.

Draco only got a few minutes of peace in his room, laying face-down on the bed, before someone knocked. Cursing, he got up and opened the door. Theo was standing with a stupid smirk on his face and a half finished bottle of Firewhisky in his hand.

He sighed and let him in.

"Are you sober?" Draco asked and walked to the sofa. Resting his feet on the coffee table, he muttered an incantation and the fireplace lighted up.

"I can walk pretty well."

His friend all but collapsed on one of the armchairs and handed him the bottle.

"I'll take that as a no," Draco said and took a sip of alcohol. It burned his throat but he couldn't say he minded. It was a pleasant distraction. "What happened?" he asked, taking another sip and passing him back the bottle.

"My father died."

Draco didn't even flinch at that. Perhaps that was why Hermione had been away for a few hours now. Meetings and updates didn't usually take that long and she wouldn't personally go on a mission without telling him.

"Didn't realize you cared so much for him," he eventually said.

"I don't. But now that the bastard's dead _I_ am Lord Nott and that means I will have to take his place everywhere, including in the Dark Lord's army."

Draco grimaced. "The Dark Lord isn't here. Hermione is in charge now and she isn't going to let you, let alone ask you, to take your father's place."

"Hermione isn't gonna be there forever, mate."

"No, she isn't," he sighed and took back the bottle of Firewhisky. "But she is now, so let it be tomorrow's problem."

"And what am I supposed to do when tomorrow comes?" Theo was leaning his back on one side of the armchair and the legs hung off the other, in a sort of diagonal position.

"We'll figure it out. Enough of us have been forced to take the Mark for that psychopath."

"Is Hermione still at the Manor?" Theo asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I guess. She went in to get more books and for a brief update with the Death Eaters and hasn't come back yet."

More silence found its way in the room and none of them said anything for a while.

"How did he die?"

"Killed during a mission."

Draco scoffed at that. "So the Order uses killing curses now. Good to know."

"Not really. A _Stupefy_ sent him flying back against the wall of the house they were checking. Hit his head too hard. Ever the heroes, can't even deign to kill a man the old way," he muttered.

Draco laughed at that, and a knock interrupted them. Probably Daphne looking for her boyfriend.

When he opened the door, there was Hermione standing in front of him, though. The expression on her face all but pleased.

She made her way into the room and sat on the sofa without a word, taking the bottle Theo was offering her. She didn't usually drink, so he thought something must have happened, besides Theo's father.

"News?" Draco asked, and sat next to her.

"Macnair decided to take some friends on a mission this morning and very few of them made it out alive. The few members of the Order in the damn house escaped and blew it up. Anti-Disapparation wards were up."

"Is he still alive?"

Hermione sighed. "He started an unauthorized mission that got six Death Eaters killed and got nothing out of it. Let's just say Bellatrix was happy to the dirty work for me."

"Who?" Theo asked.

"Other than your father, both Crabbe and Goyle senior, Rowle, Travers, and Avery."

"Fucking great."

"Theo, I'm not letting you take the Mark," Hermione whispered.

"I don't think there's much I can do to avoid it, once he's back, but thanks, Hermione."

"I'll figure something out, I promise."

"We're screwed anyway."

She sighed again. "I guess we really are, aren't we?"

Hermione locked her fingers with Draco's and leaned into him so that her head was resting on his shoulder. They _were_ screwed.

§§§

The search for the responsible of Hestia's attack were still ongoing in the castle, except now Hestia was awake, finally.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

"Better. I'm just glad professor Slughorn found a cure."

Flora smiled, beside her in the bed, and took her sister's hand.

"Do you remember anything of the attack?"

"I'm not sure. I remember something, but it sounds insane, so I think it may have been a hallucination."

Draco believed he already knew what she was going to say.

He cast a _Muffliato_ around them to avoid more incidents.

"It's fine, Hestia. We'll take care of it," he said, and tried smiling.

The twins looked at each other, then looked at him. Draco raised his eyebrows.

"I saw Harry Potter," Hestia finally said.

Draco closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Great._

"I believe you."

"You do?" they asked at the same time.

Draco nodded. "What happened?"

Hestia was visibly nervous.

"He was with that girl, Ginny Wesley. I tried hexing him, but he cast a shield and the hex backfired on me."

Draco sighed. "You can't tell anyone. They're going to think you're crazy, or that you had a hallucination."

"What do you mean?" Flora asked. "You knew about this?"

"We suspected the Gryffindors had something to do with this, we just didn't have proof. And we can't prove it either. Harry Potter is dead to the world, and there's probably no way we can expose him right now," he was forced to admit.

"So now what?"

Draco sighed and leaned on the wall next to Hestia's bed. "If anyone asks you, besides Snape, tell them you don't remember anything. Your wand record will tell them you cast that curse, but nothing else. I know Ginny Wesley was there too, but her wand record will be clean, and Potter's wand can't really be examined. We're stuck."

Hestia and Flora nodded.

"It's fine. There's things more important than revenge right now, and if I see Wesley in the halls I'll be sure to maybe throw a subtle hex at her now and then, or charm her face cream," she said smiling, and Draco did not doubt it. Revenge couldn't officially come for the twins, but it could sure make an appearance off the records. Very subtly off the records, too. They knew perfectly well that the Gryffindors couldn't suspect they knew about Potter.

§§§

Later that day, both Draco and Hermione were summoned in Snape's office.

"You wanted to see us?" Hermione asked, as they both sat in the chairs in front of his desk.

"We found no traces on the students of a Dark Mark, which means that either someone with a Mark did it, or someone with a Mark took the trace off the real responsible. I sure did no such thing, which leaves me to you and Miss Granger."

Fuck. He should have seen that one coming. Hermione and he were the only Death Eaters besides Snape in the whole castle and no Death Eater from their circle would bother attacking Hestia Carrow on school grounds. Regardless, the risk he took was worth it. They could end this war, if only Potter did his damn job right for once. Maybe without getting killed in the process, this time.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Snape. "I had no part in this," she simply said.

Draco cleared his throat and the attention of both Hermione and Snape was on him then.

"As you may know, Hestia woke up. I talked to her earlier."

"I don't have time for this, Draco. If you have something to say, just say it," his headmaster rushed.

He almost rolled his eyes. "She said she saw Potter. She cursed him, he cast a shield and the curse backfired."

"Harry Potter?" he merely asked, like it was an insult.

"The one and only."

"The girl could have been hallucinating. This is impossible," Snape eventually spat out.

Hermione shook her head, beside him. "She's telling the truth. He's alive."

Somehow, he wasn't shocked she knew. It was kind of implicit by that point. Potter could not have known about Hermione's reasons for wanting the Dark Lord back, he wasn't nowhere near smart enough to figure it out by himself.

"Why am I not surprised you knew, Miss Granger?" Snape laid back in his chair and glared at the both of them.

"The Dark Lord knows too. He told me to kill Harry before he left," she admitted.

Well, that was news. The madman _knew_. But how? If Hermione's theory about the Horcruxes was correct, then he probably figured out Potter was the only one who could find them and destroy them, like he was doing before getting himself killed in the first place. By killing the problem, he could come back and not worry about it anymore. But, then again, why was Potter, of all people, the only one who could sense the Horcruxes?

"The only question, now, is do we tell the Death Eaters?" Draco asked, breaking the silence.

"It's not like they can help find him. We know where he is, they can't do anything about him unless he comes out." Hermione was leaning with her elbows on the desk, her head between her hands.

"And where exactly is he?" Snape asked, clearly both annoyed and disgusted.

"Here."

§§§

Draco had finally managed to copy the reverse Patronus spell from Hermione's book once she decided to let it go because useless to her case. She needed to return some books to the Manor library, so he offered to do it instead and copied the spell on a fresh piece of parchment.

The Manor wasn't much warmer when he Flooed there. It felt emptier than usual without the Dark Lord there and the inevitable amount of Death Eaters that entailed. Only Bellatrix and few more stuck around after he disappeared. Bellatrix and his husband and brother-in-law were obviously living there, while others, such as Dolohov, who were higher in rank, would come by every other day to check with Granger or with others that everything was in order and going as planned, in case of ongoing missions.

In the library he met his mother. Narcissa was reading, having tea near one of the windows, where a small reading area was arranged.

"Hello, mother," he greeted and put down the books on a table, knowing the elves would put them back where they belonged. He sat in the armchair next to hers after she waved at the empty spot.

"Hello, Draco. Do you have time for tea?"

"I always have time for tea with you, mother," he genuinely smiled and poured himself some.

He had always enjoyed tea with his mother. She was like a wave fresh air after dealing with Lucius.

"How is Miss Granger adapting? I've seen her here quite often lately."

Draco almost raised a brow. Why would his mother care about Granger?

"She's doing fine. It's not exactly the easiest job, especially for her, but she's coming along. It will be easier when he comes back." He forced out the last part, just in case someone was listening. He was well aware he couldn't tell anyone his plans, not even his mother.

"Your father doesn't seem too pleased with her," Narcissa said and closed her book.

Draco sighed. "Father might benefit from understanding Granger is her own person, not my personal puppet."

"You know how he is, darling. Don't give him too much of a hard time for it." She took a sip of her tea and studied him as she always do when she was about to ask him something. "Is the girl fond of Severus?"

Well, he didn't see _that one_ coming. He stared at his mother, confused, before denying. "Snape wasn't really fond of her to begin with, and she didn't like him because he wronged poor Saint Potter while favorizing Slytherin. She has no more reason to be fond of him now than she did back then."

"Interesting," Narcissa merely said, continuing to sip her tea. "That spell you used last time we talked, _Muffliato_ , that is a spell Severus created. I was just wondering how Miss Granger got to it."

What would it even matter though?

"Potter cheated his way through Potions sixth year. He always carried this Potions book with him everywhere. When he hexed me and Snape found me, he immediately knew the counter curse, but I had never heard of it before. I don't know how he would get that information but I think the newly found talent for potions and the spells he knew were somehow linked. Perhaps Granger just picked some up."

"Severus created many spells indeed, during his time at Hogwarts."

That wasn't surprising at all. He eyed the clock and sighed. It was almost dinner time.

"I'm afraid I'll have to go now, mother. Take care of yourself," he said, and lightly kissed her hand. He walked back to the main Floo and appeared back in Granger's room, where she was still studying – shockingly.

"Dinner starts in ten," he said, and she almost jumped off the chair. She was clearly so deep into her work she didn't even hear him coming.

"You startled me," she just said and leaned back on the chair, taking a deep breath.

"Sorry," he smirked and approached her, putting his hands on her shoulders and massaging them. She was tense as only Hermione studying for N.E.W.T.s could be. Plus the extra work for the Dark Lord, of course.

Her desk was an unusual mess. There were assignments, pieces of parchment, books open and notes everywhere. One in particular caught his attention as he picked it up. "What's this?"

Hermione briefly glanced at the parchment he was holding, then focused back on her book.

"I was writing Viktor to let him know I won't be able to attend the game next weekend."

Draco raised a brow. He knew how much he meant to her. He didn't love the idea, but better to know than not.

"Why won't you?" he asked. Not that he wasn't thrilled at the idea of her not attending a game where Viktor Krum, international Quiddich star and man who took her innocence, would be showing off just for her. She hadn't given up the game when he'd asked her, so why now?

"Well, while before I was able to get a night off studying, now that we have this new… development in our lives, I don't have time for it. The Dark Lord isn't giving any signs of coming back and the Death Eaters situation is a mess, after Macnair took it upon himself to get six of them killed. Then there's the Harry situation too, with the twins, and I don't even feel like I have time to breathe, let alone go to a Quiddich game." Hermione sounded utterly exhausted.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes, as if that helped him to think more clearly. His witch was working herself out trying to be the hero – as utterly Gryffindor as that sounded – and he wasn't sure she would make it out alive, if it kept going on for much longer.

He took her hand and turned her around, then kissed her. It wasn't a deep, or lustful kiss, just a soft peck on the lips.

"Let me help you," he just whispered, and knew he wanted to do just that: take some weight off her shoulders.

"How?" she whispered back, but kept her forehead leaning against his.

"Let me handle the Death Eaters, at least. You can study for the N.E.W.T.s and only go to the Manor if anything major happens that absolutely requires your presence."

"But he said _I'm_ in charge," she almost groaned.

"I know. But the Death Eaters don't need a leader right now. There's nothing, realistically speaking, they can do. We just have to wait for him. I'll go to the meetings and keep you updated." He cupped her face and their eyes met again.

"I still have to find out what's going on with him, if it's the Horcruxes, or something else."

Draco sighed again. "I know it's hard for your Gryffindor brain to understand this, but there is nothing you can do about this. He's possibly the most powerful wizard in the world, and if _he_ can't find a way out of this, neither can you."

"What about Harry?"

That stroke a nerve. He remembered well the way she reacted when he hinted he wasn't exactly on the Dark Lord's side at the moment, and didn't really know how to approach the situation.

"What about him?"

"What are we going to do?"

"What do _you_ want to do?" he just asked. The decision was entirely up to her.

"He said I have to kill him," she muttered and looked away. "And the Hestia saw him."

"The twins won't say a word. Hermione," he called, making her look at him again, "What do _you_ want to do?" he repeated.

She shook her head and her eyes started watering. "I don't know what's happening to me, Draco," she whispered, so low he barely heard her.

He felt her words in his bones. In a time like that, it was hard even for him to understand what the right side was. _If_ there was even a right side to be on, that is.

He closed his eyes and drew her in his arms, holding her tight. She circled his waist and sobbed silently in his chest. It was almost like he could physically feel her pain, feeling it as his own.

"He's my way out," she muttered, her voice shaking.

So it _was_ like Potter said.

"I know," he sighed. "You don't have to decide anything today."

"I do," she merely said, and another sob broke her voice. "I have to decide what side I'm on."

§§§

Confusion reigned in her mind. Hermione didn't know what to do. In the position she was at that moment, every step she took had consequences, whether good or bad.

There _had_ to be a way out. If _Draco Malfoy,_ of all people, could turn his back to the Dark Lord, maybe so could she. The Dark Lord was the only one who could free her, that was undeniable. He could give her back what he took away in the first place, her freedom. But would he? Was that why Draco decided to walk away? Because he knew, deep down, that he was as trapped as she was, if not more?

She knew she had to make a decision. That was the worst part. But she was a Death Eater. Not only that, the head Death Eater, now that he was gone. What was she going to do, defect and have every single supporter of the Dark Lord hunt her down, and all of her friends with her? Draco, Daphne, Theo… maybe even Viktor. She just couldn't risk it. She couldn't ask Daphne and Theo to fight her war when they had nothing to do with it in the first place.

No matter what she did, if the Death Eaters learned about her defiance, they wouldn't hesitate to hurt those she loved to hurt _her_ , or blackmail her, or worse. There was nothing she could do without having it jeopardize the safety of her friends.

"Sometimes the right thing to do is to do nothing", Draco had said. Was that the answer? Harry was alive and well, he was still hunting down Horcruxes, and she knew he wanted to kill the Dark Lord maybe even more than she did. Maybe she could just let him do just that. Perhaps she could help without doing nothing that would blow her cover with the Death Eaters. Nothing that would get her friends killed.

The Gryffindors were deep into the war already, but Theo and Daphne weren't. Daphne's family had decided to stay neutral in the conflict, and she could put off Theo bearing the Mark until the Dark Lord returned, _if_ he ever did so.

Maybe she could do that. Let Draco deal with the Death Eaters, study for her N.E.W.T.s, pretend to research and figure out what happened to the Dark Lord, all while pretending not to know Harry was still alive. If Voldemort ever came back and asked for an explanation, she could work something out. Perhaps she could say they had a Fidelius on where Harry was staying, and that they certainly wouldn't tell _her_. She would have plenty of time to figure out something until he returned.

While Draco held her pressed against his chest like someone would be trying to take her away from him, she asked herself what Harry's presence at Hogwarts meant to him. Had he never told her he knew about Harry because he was afraid she would jump back on the Gryffindor ship and abandon him to deal with Voldemort on his own, knowing he would face the most severe punishment out of everyone because he was so close to her?

"I'm not leaving you, Draco Malfoy," she then said, hoping he would understand what he was referring to.

She felt Draco stiffen. "I'll understand if you do. This is your war too."

Hermione raised her head and looked at him in the eye, cupping his left cheek. "No. I _am not_ leaving you, Draco. Whatever happens, we'll deal with it together. I will not walk away from you. Do you understand?"

He didn't say anything. He just stared at her from a few seconds, then kissed her. She could feel the pain in his kiss, the confusion, the desperation, the not knowing what to do. They were the same. He couldn't come out as _not_ a supporter of the cause, or they would kill his mother. She couldn't come out because of Daphne and Theo. They were screwed through and through.

"The spell you've found, the reversed Patronus… we should give it to them," Draco said shortly after. "And leave it at that. We did our part."

"Do you think it'll be enough?" It certainly didn't look like it was enough.

"Potter can find the Horcruxes and destroy them, then kill him without coming out and getting himself killed again. It's the safest option."

Hermione thought about it for a moment. It was a spell they could find on their own, for all everyone knew. She and Draco would have nothing to do with it, to the public eye. Plus, having the two of them on the inside, besides Snape, could be useful. Maybe they really could pull this off. But would Harry stay out of a fight? The prophecy did say he was the only one who could kill Voldemort. Would their plan work?

As if afraid someone would hear her, Hermione nodded and closed her eyes.

"I'll do it," Draco whispered. "I already talked to Wesley."

Her eyes shot open at that and she looked at him with a raised brow, tears now dry on her face. She probably looked like a mess. Draco replied with a guilty-looking expression.

"I did think you were full-on Death Eater for a moment and I was worried you might not come back from it."

Hermione didn't know what to think. "You, Draco Malfoy, willingly walked into the lion's cage because you were worried for me?" She voiced out her concerns.

He looked confused when he answered her. "Well, I knew they were hunting Horcruxes, and, if your theory was correct, they were the only shot I had."

He cared, Hermione realized. Not that she didn't already know he did, but she hadn't realized he cared _that_ much. He cared enough to go to the Gryffindors for help, all while probably believing she would leave him for her old life once she was back to her "normal self."

Maybe that something they had would make it through. Through the war, through everything. Together. That thought brought a smile to her lips and she just locked their hands and lips together.


	21. Truths

"Tomorrow night is your chance," Blaise Zabini stated, sitting next to Luna Lovegood in the Room of Requirement.

Ginny Weasley questioningly raised an eyebrow at him from her usual armchair. Harry Potter did too, as he motioned for him to continue.

"Tomorrow is Saint Valentine's, one of the few nights Slytherin always celebrates." A night that was awfully compromising under every possible point of view. Being friends with Theo, he knew his secret was Veritaserum, but he didn't have the antidote and he was nowhere near a good enough Occlumens to try and resist the potion. Neither was anyone around him. "This means it's going to be a Slytherin-only night in the dungeons, and Theo mentioned it's a version of truth or dare this year. Everyone takes Veritaserum so they can make sure no one lies."

"And you can get in?" Potter asked, skeptically.

Blaise snorted. "Of course I can get in. Granger and Draco may not want to talk to me, see me, or acknowledge I exist, but the others do. The question is how do we go about this?"

"Wait, you can ask anything?"

"Well, if the person chooses truth, right?" Neville Longbottom – bad manipulator _exceptionnel_ – asked. Gryffindors made him want to tear his eyes out.

He rolled his eyes and sighed, deciding not to let out his frustration with these people. How anyone could be so bad at life, he would never understand. "If it's a dare, I can dare you to do whatever I want. I can dare you to stand in your underwear in Snape's office and sing _Do the Hippogriff_ , or I can dare you to tell me whatever it is I want to know."

"I guess I've never really thought about that," Longbottom murmured. Of course he hadn't.

He caught himself thinking that doing all that with a bunch of Slytherins would be much easier and way less work, but Slytherins did not defect. Most of them had parents or friends deeply involved with the Dark Lord and they knew what the consequences were for those who betrayed him. He couldn't say he blamed them.

"Shocking," Blaise muttered with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "So, what is it you want to know?"

He didn't get a straight answer right away. His question only let the Gryffindors there to all start talking at the same time like a horde of unmannered trolls. Blaise wasn't sure they would ever come to an agreement.

"Can we at least all agree that it has to be something regarding the Death Eaters?" Potter shouted, gathering everyone's attention.

Blaise had considered that, but he wasn't sure it would be possible.

"Theo is the designated master of ceremonies, which means he makes the rules," he started, thinking out loud. "If he decides that questions regarding Draco or Hermione's work as Death Eaters are off-limits, I will be magically bound to respect the rules, as un-Slytherin as that sounds."

"And why would he do that?" Potter asked, skeptically.

"Because they're friends," Blaise stated, as if Theo's reasons wouldn't be obvious. "If they were forced to answer and revealed top secret information for everyone to hear, they would die, or worse."

"Okay then," Ginny started with a sigh. "Besides secret Death Eater plans, what else do we need to know?"

Blaise expected the troll-like behavior to resume on their part, but he was pleasantly surprised to see that, this time, everyone stood silently in their seats, thinking. So they _were_ capable of good manners, they just refused to use them.

"Malfoy," Potter eventually muttered. All eyes were on him. "We need to know what the deal is with him. If Hermione really trusts him or not."

Neville Longbottom nodded lightly, as did Ginny. Luna was still sitting silently next to him, looking around dreamily.

Blaise knew better than to believe she was as naïve as everyone thought she was.

§§§

"You," Draco stated, as he entered Hermione's room like it was his own, after she finally opened the door for him, "Need a break."

She looked at him like he'd grown a third eye. "I don't have time for a break."

"Granger, I think we both can agree that you either come out of here willingly, or I'll make you come out. _You_ need a break. You've been working yourself out and you have no common sense whatsoever," he declared, not having it. She had been closed in her room for days, only getting out for meals – barely – and classes. Other than that, she was always studying.

She had, at least, agreed to let _him_ go to the Death Eaters' routine meetings, so she did have a bit more time, but he thought she'd use it to rest, or breath. Hermione Granger was doing none.

"And what are we possibly going to do _if_ I come out?" She questioned, raising an unimpressed brow at him.

"It's Saint Valentine's night," Draco said, smirking.

"So what?" She asked, confused. "We're not exactly the types to celebrate it."

"Well, this is Slytherin tradition, so you're participating too. We usually get together in the common room to play, fifth-years and up."

Well, Draco guessed that year it was only seventh-years and the few sixth-years and fifth-years who were bored enough not to care for the curfew – which wasn't really valid for Hermione and him, but still stood for the rest of the students.

"Tell me it's not strip poker," she asked in all seriousness, with the tone of a mother scorning her children. To be fair, they were devious enough to do it. Had done it, in fact, a few years prior, when he wasn't old enough to take part in the Valentine's tradition.

Draco laughed. "Not this year. There's too many outsiders and we like to keep things in the House. This year it's truth and dare, the classic with a twist. If you choose dare, then the group picks it, but if you choose truth, you can either answer or do a dare proposed by the person who asked the question."

"That sounds compromising," Hermione stated in a questioning tone.

"That's why it's so much fun," he grinned.

He took her hand and guided them both out of her room, in the common living area, where people were already charming the sofas into a circle around the chess table.

Draco sat down along with some others as soon as they were done and sat her in his lap.

"Well, I'm not a Slytherin," she said, trying to find an excuse not to take part in their little tradition.

"You're not," he smirked, "But you're with me, so you're playing."

Draco could tell she tried to smile at that, but she only managed a grimace.

"Do I really have to?" Hermione complained.

"Of course you do, it's tradition," Theo said, approaching them.

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "How will you make sure I don't just lie?"

"We have our ways," Theo just said, and smirked. "I am the designated master of ceremonies here and planner of the night, so I'm afraid only _I_ know my secrets."

Draco smirked at that. He knew perfectly well what the secret was.

"Well, can you at least tell me how we decide who gets to ask the questions?" She asked, rolling her eyes.

"We spin the bottle, of course." Theo raised his hand, that was holding a bottle of Firewhisky.

"You can't spin a full bottle."

"Of course not. That's why we're taking shots first."

"I did not agree to this," she said, readily.

Theo laughed at that.

"Relax, Granger, it's only enough for one sip each. We don't want to be drunk for the game. It's purely functional. We need an empty bottle and we can't possibly throw away the whiskey."

Hermione looked around as everyone was now forming a perfect circle on the sofas and no one seemed even remotely bothered by the idea of drinking. Why would they? It certainly wasn't news to any of them.

Students from other Houses were still in the common area, but the circle of sofas made them kind of isolated from the Slytherins. Slytherin secrets were to remain in Slytherin. He knew people had already put on silencing spells on the area, so they couldn't hear them.

"Fine." Hermione eventually gave up, and drank. So did Draco and Theo, before passing down the bottle to Daphne, who was now sitting next to them. "What now?" She asked, still sitting in his lap. He certainly didn't mind.

"Now we play."

What he did mind was seeing Blaise Zabini sitting right across from them, talking to Pansy, of all people. He was as much of a Slytherin as any of them, and they couldn't kick him out without blowing both his cover and theirs. They should have reported him to the Dark Lord already, but they didn't. It was too great of a risk.

Pretending to be unbothered by his presence, Draco wrapped his left arm around Hermione so that his hand was now resting on her stomach. He looked around and saw other familiar faces. Astoria, of course, didn't miss her chance, along with Freya Midwater and Olivia Sentice, two sixth-years. Besides her, a fifth-year boy he remembered from the Quidditch team and two more he didn't really know.

He noticed with a grimace that about half of all the people in the circle were Sacred Twenty-Eight. Normally, Saint Valentine's night saw a crowd of people in the common room, playing. That year there were little less than twenty of them, nine of them being high pureblood elite.

Trying to shift his attention elsewhere, Draco thought about the witch in his lap. He could tell she wasn't eager to start. She _was_ Hermione Granger, after all, she didn't take uncalculated risks without analyzing every possibility first. He wasn't even sure if she ever had experience with Veritaserum before, enough to understand what was going on if she had to answer to any questions at all.

He remembered the afternoon in Umbridge's office in fifth year, when he was a member of the Inquisitorial Squad, and she was being interrogated by the old cow, but their _lovely_ Headmistress had ran out of Veritaserum so she didn't take any. Somehow, his bright witch had managed to get Umbridge right where she wanted her to be and she was eventually taken by the centaurs, before the Ministry came to her rescue.

A spark of pride arose in him and he smirked at the memory of her telling him what had happened that night after they all left Umbridge's office. She wasn't nearly as innocent as people believed her to be and he learned she only kept few rules truly in regard, as she told him about her adventures with Saint Potter and the Weasel over the years. So many rules they had broken, that he almost couldn't believe that _that_ Hermione was truly his witch and not some impostor.

The Granger he remembered from their years at Hogwarts before that whole mess started never broke the rules, always turned in assignment on time – or in advance – and was almost every teacher's pet. The Granger she told him about was as much a rulebreaker as every other Slytherin. He was pretty impressed, he had to admit.

"Alright," Theo shouted, to get everyone's attention. Their portion of room became silent and everyone turned to him, as he was now standing on the chess table in the center of their little circle. "You know the rules. Nothing is off-limits. If someone in here is in a relationship and their dare implies something one may consider to be cheating, they can choose whether to do it or not. All clear?"

People nodded and Hermione leaned on his chest, as she sighed. It didn't take much to understand she wasn't really enjoying the game, and it hadn't even started. That last reassurance from Theo seemed to calm her down a bit, though.

Eyeing him and the witch in his lap, as well as everyone in their little circle, Theo cleared his throat and spoke once again. "Moreover, since Draco and Hermione here are, as you know, close to the Dark Lord and his inner circle, no questions about their status as Death Eaters will be allowed, as it could potentially jeopardize their work." People were a little more serious now, nodding again, and staring at the two of them. "Besides," Theo added, waving towards the rest of the common room, where people were looking in their direction, confused by what was happening, "There's too many unfriendly eyes this year, and I refuse to put the lives of my friends in the hands of silencing spells that could be broken at any moment."

Draco nodded at Theo and murmured a thanks, and knew everyone would respect the new rule. The fact that more or less every person in Slytherin knew they were all somehow forced to tell the truth no matter what helped their case, because they knew Theo was being honest and that they couldn't risk the exposure of whatever secret Death Eater plan – if any. Plus, seeing how they were both reconsidering their allegiances, the game could be fatal to both of them if the wrong questions were asked.

Luckily enough, Theodore Nott was the master of ceremonies in Slytherin, which meant that, whenever the situation called for it, his word was pretty much law. The magic surrounding his honorary title down in Slytherin made sure of it.

He noticed Blaise Zabini didn't seem quite fond of that new rule, but repressed the urge to glare at him.

"How can you possibly think everyone will respect the rules?" Hermione whispered, and – for obvious reasons – he knew she was genuinely concerned.

Draco smirked and took her right hand in his. "You see, every two years Slytherin fifth-years and up have a magical vote to designate the master of ceremonies. The magic forces you to obey the rules of said master."

"A magical vote?" She asked, sounding quite impressed. He imagined they had no such thing in Gryffindor. He smirked in return and kissed the back of her hand, while his witch kept slowly shaking her head in disbelief. "Quite ironic, for someone who completely disregards every other rule in the book."

Draco chuckled at that. She wasn't wrong. "What can I say, we take Slytherin tradition quite seriously."

"Alright, let the game begin!" Theo stated, clapping his hands and taking his place next to Daphne.

The first to spin was Lysander Macmillan's and it landed on Olympe Selwyn – both seventh-years. He knew Olympe from his Care of Magical Creatures class and thought she was quite nice. Deviously nice, of course, but nice nonetheless.

"Truth or dare, Olympe?" The boy asked.

"Dare, of course," she answered with a smirk.

Draco chuckled, while everyone else cheered at the bold choice of being the first dare of the night. Lysander grinned and bowed his head slightly at her in appreciation.

"I dare you to hide one piece of your clothing in Lysander's room," someone shouted. He believed it was Anthony Spice, fifth-year. The group cheered at his proposal and Olympe left the circle with a wink towards the target of her dare.

By the time she was back, they were already on the next round, where Astoria now had to answer Pansy's question.

"This will _not_ be pretty," Hermione muttered and laughed softly. Draco couldn't disagree.

"Why did Draco dump you?" She asked, and Draco sighed, while Hermione scoffed.

Astoria was visibly trying to resist the Veritaserum, but it only lasted a moment before its power overruled her every effort. "Because I made a scene to Granger in the hallways," she eventually said.

Pansy eyed him meaningfully and quite amused. "Looks like someone's been screwing the Mudblood for longer than expected."

Draco gritted his teeth and scowled at her.

"He was not," Hermione denied, before he could do it himself. "And, please, do call me that again. See what happens." Her knuckles were almost white as she held her wand.

"Alright, everyone," Theo intervened before the situation could escalate in something unpleasant – for Pansy. "Let's just move on." His eyes wandered between Hermione and Pansy, making sure they wouldn't start dueling in the common room. He shot a warning glance at Pansy and sat back down.

A few rounds later, when the bottle stopped right in front of Hermione, now sitting next to him instead of on him – Theo's orders – Draco looked straight up at Blaise, positive he'd charmed it to land on her. As Hermione raised a brow at him daringly, he pretended to be just kissing her jawline and took the chance to whisper, "Veritaserum," in her ear, so low that she could barely hear him. Just in case she'd need it, Draco figured knowing what bound her to tell the truth would help. He knew his know-it-all girlfriend would know everything about the potion, even that she could use Occlumency to resist its power. Hermione looked at him and smiled, which all but told him his assumption was correct.

"Granger," Blaise smirked at her and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. "Truth or dare?"

He wondered what she'd answer. She wasn't reckless enough to let a group of twenty people – give or take – pick a dare for her, not without knowing what that was. By choosing truth, though, she would be giving Blaise the opportunity to ask her anything. The only difference in the level of screwed she would be was that she could attempt to resist Veritaserum through Occlumency. They hadn't even had that much, so the effects wouldn't last too long after the game. She could probably pull it off. Hell, if you can keep Bellatrix out of your head, you can keep a few drops of Veritaserum at bay for a bit.

"Truth," Hermione eventually decided, probably asserting that she could, indeed, pull it off, in case she needed to.

Blaise raised his chin, then looked briefly at him before turning his eyes back on Granger.

"Do you genuinely care about Draco?"

Well, that was a surprise. Draco tried not to let his shock affect his expression, and he could feel Hermione was astounded as well. They sure didn't see it coming.

"Yes, I genuinely care about him," she blurted out, almost instantly. Clearly, she'd lost focus just enough to let the Veritaserum kick in. She was expecting something else, as was he. There was no reason for her to lie about the two of them anyway, so he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal. The only thing that wasn't quite clear to Draco was why Blaise would ask _that_ , of all things. He had pretty much _carte blanche,_ besides the off-limits Death Eater business.

As a few people complained to Blaise as per how "boring" his question was, Draco merely put his hand on Hermione's thigh and the game resumed.

The game kept going and the moment Draco – and probably Theo as well – dreaded came. Daphne's spin landed on Theo. They were in a relationship, obviously, so the rules of the game gave them a way out, but not from each other. One wrong question and Theo's proposal plan would be completely and utterly ruined, if he were to lose.

Daphne was onto something, she could have even figured it out already, but she did not like to wait or being kept in the dark. Theo knew perfectly well what was coming. With the Veritaserum making sure everyone would be playing fair, he had nowhere to run.

"My dear, truth or dare?" She asked, smiling that devious smile of hers.

Draco could basically see the engines in Theo's brain overheating. If he chose dare, then he was willingly subjecting himself to the group's decision. If he chose truth and didn't answer, Daphne would probably dare him to tell her anyway. In Slytherin, any dare could be a truth if phrased correctly.

Theo Nott took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "Dare."

Now, the thing with the group deciding the dare was that everyone was allowed to propose something and the proposal most people agreed on won. This meant that Draco couldn't propose an easy dare without his suggestion being torn apart faster than Longbottom in Snape's Potions classes.

He turned to look at Hermione and found that she had a resigned half smile on her lips. She knew Daphne all too well not to know what was coming, and, judging by the look on Daphne's face, it would be a long night for Theo. Deliberately refusing to answer her questions was going to be just another add to her list of hints that Theo was indeed up to something.

Draco's best friend basically had nowhere to hide.

Their little game was over slightly after midnight. Draco and Hermione returned to his room, as Draco was keen on not letting her spend the night researching or studying again – someone had to make her sleep, once in a while, since she had no common sense.

§§§

Hermione was surprised the effects of the Veritaserum hadn't got anyone in – too much – trouble. Especially the two of them.

She was the first one to get to bed, and was left with the sight of Draco undressing himself. He took more time than usual – purposefully so, she was sure – and Hermione couldn't help laughing from time to time. When he finally tucked in bed with her, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, while she was still smiling.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"Does there have to be a reason?"

She shook her head in response. "It was nice, game night in Slytherin."

Draco grinned at that. "I'm glad you liked it."

"Reckless," she clarified, "But nice nonetheless. Lysander was… well, not what I expected," Hermione chuckled, remembering the dare he accepted – not that he had a choice. The seventh-year ended up having to write a romantic letter to Snape where he confessed his undying love for him, then was escorted to the Owlery by two others to give it to his owl so it could make the morning post. He even signed the thing, although the dare didn't include that.

Laughing out loud, Draco drew her closer and buried his face in her neck. "Lysander has some of that Gryffindor recklessness you don't often get to see in Slytherin."

"What was up with Blaise?" Hermione asked, almost fearing the answer.

"Someone in the Order probably told him to ask that." Draco's answer came immediately, as the Veritaserum was still active and he wasn't making an effort to stop its power.

"Do you think they wanted to make sure I actually trusted you?"

He seemed to think about it for a few seconds. "Perhaps they wanted to make sure they could trust me. If _you_ trust me, and they trust you, then they can trust your judgement," he reasoned. It made sense.

"I didn't lie, you know." Hermione felt like she needed to say it out loud. "I do genuinely care about you. I think I'm falling," she added, in a whisper.

Draco smiled on her skin. "I know you didn't lie. I'm most definitely falling for you too, witch."

Hermione smiled as well and moved her head so she could kiss him more easily. His breath on her skin tickled her, as she was partially resting her back on Draco's chest. They both knew where the night was headed to.

His arms were all around her torso, and his hands resting on her stomach. Her right hand was drawing circles on his left, playing with his ring. The silver Malfoy crest was shining in the greenish light of his bedroom.

"Do you like it?" He asked, leaving a wet kiss on her neck.

Hermione had never really paid attention to it before, but she could admit it was something worth looking at. The details were incredibly precise and sharp and she honestly doubted any Malfoy had cared about money while having it made.

"It's beautiful."

"Try it," he said, and slipped it off his finger before she could protest.

"It's definitely too big for me," she laughed, while he took her hand and moved the ring on her index.

Crossing her expectations, as soon as the ring was on her finger it started shrinking until it was the perfect size. Clearly, it was charmed – not really surprising, if it was a family heirloom.

"I think it fits just fine. Father had it made for me when I turned ten, so it's definitely not cursed," he chuckled and lightly shook his head.

She didn't really know what to say, she just flexed her fingers to see it shine at the faded light of the lamps.

"I want you to keep it," Draco said after a few seconds of silence.

Hermione thought he was out of his mind.

"I can't, Draco. This is yours," she said and tried taking it off, but he stopped her.

"And now it's yours," he just stated and locked their hands.

"I'm a Muggle-born, I can't just walk around with a Malfoy family ring." Hermione sighed and turned to face him.

"Says who? It's my ring and I can do whatever I want with it."

"Why would you want me to have it?" She asked. If he really wanted to give her jewelry, which was completely unnecessary and she wouldn't accept anyway, he had the money to go buy whatever he wanted. Why that ring?

"It has some very powerful protection charms on it."

"And? I don't need a ring for that."

"And no one will bother you as long as you wear it," he eventually admitted.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at that. "No one will bother me regardless, as long as they want to keep living a long and healthy life."

"And I want everyone to know you're taken," Draco sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

"I haven't marked you as mine," she just said. Of course the Malfoy wanted everyone to know she was taken. Prat.

A grin found its way onto his lips, then. "You can mark me whenever you want, witch."

Hermione scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I don't want to mark you, Draco, you're not my property."

"I'm just saying, if you want to, you can." He was still smiling that idiot smile of his, which made it hard for her not to smile too.

"So if I wanted you to wear something that told everyone you're mine, you would?" She teased.

His grin grew. "Yes."

Hermione didn't understand. "Why?"

"It's sexy," he just said, then took her hand, the one with the ring on the index, and kissed the back of it.

"Lucius will not like this," she muttered absently.

"Lucius," Draco started and moved lower to leave sensual kissed on her neck. "Will deal with it."


End file.
